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A College Man 

A Comedy in Four Acts 



By 
EARL REED SILVERS 



NOTE 

This play may be performed by amateurs free of royalty and 
without express permission. The professional stage-rights are, 
however, strictly reserved, and performance by professional 
actors, given in advertised places of amusement and for profit, is 
forbidden. Persons who may wish to produce this play publicly 
and professionally should apply to the author in care of the 
publisliers. 



BOSTON 

WALTER H. BAKER k CO. 
1917 



A College Man A^ 






CHARACTERS 

{^As originally produced by the Queetis Players of Rutgers College , 

April 6, igi3, at the New Jersey State Normal School, 

Newark, N, J) 

Bill Kendall, Sophomore 
Peanut Jones, Freshman . 
BuDD Stone, Junior . 
Ted Willis, Senior . 
Professor " Johnny" Miller 
Mr. Stone, Budd s dad 
Geraldine Harris, aristocrat . 
Zelda Saunders, the girl . 
Mrs. Brownley, chaperon 



. Anto7iA.Raven'i6 

Lawrence H. French '// 

Harry N. Blue '/j 

George H. Whisler ' j6 

William P. E. Ainsworth ' i6 

. Boy AI. D. Richardson '/j 

Robert A, McKenzie ' i8 

Arthur L. Pink '18 

Statiley /. Horn '16 



SYNOPSIS 

Time. — A week after the opening of college. 
Scene. — A fraternity study. 



Act I. 
Act II. 



Act III. 
Act IV. 



Early afternoon. 
Evening of the same day. 

{During Act II the curtain will be lowered 
to denote an interval of forty minutes. ) 
Two-thirty the next morning. 
Nine o'clock of the same morning. 



Time of Performance. — About one hour and a half. 




TI^P96-006777 

Copyright, 191 7, by Earl Reed Silvers 

Free for amateur performance . Professional 
stag^ights reserved. ' . 

©ao 47840 



SEP 18 1917 
'/to I 



SYNOPSIS OF ACTION 

Act I. — Bill Kendall flunks his reexamination and resolves to 
crib during his next and last trial. He and Peanut make out a 
crib. Budd Stone finds he must give back his college money to 
his father, or the home farm will be lost. Budd tells Bill about his 
predicament. Mr. Stone comes for the money. Budd refuses to 
give it to him, because he is in love with Zelda. 

Act II. — Bill Kendall is placed on his honor and refuses to 
cheat. He flunks the exam. Budd proposes to Zelda, who refuses 
him because he has never done anything worth while. Ted WilHs 
tells Zelda he loves her, but she tells him of her feeling for Budd. 
Bill Kendall tries to shock Geraldine, but is shocked in return. 

Act III. — Mr. Stone comes in the middle of the night and at- 
tempts to steal the money from Budd. Ted catches him in the 
room, and finds out how things stand. 

Act IV. — Bill prepares to go home. Mr, Stone comes for a last 
talk with Budd. Budd sends him into the bedroom. Peanut goes 
into the bedroom for a suit-case. He discovers Mr. Stone and 
brands him as a thief. Budd acknowledges his father and re- 
solves to go home with him. Zelda announces that Budd has 
stopped drifting, and that she will marry him. 

COSTUMES 

-Peanu"esH ^^^/.•/"^"^^^• Ordinary suits. Act II. 
T>r ^r. c ^ l White flannels. 

Budd Stone ) 

Ted Willis. Act I. Ordinary suit, football suit. Act II. 
White flannels. Acts III and IV. Ordinary suit. 

Prof. "Johnny" Miller. Acts I, II, III and IV. Ordinary 
suit. 

Mr, Stone. Farmer's clothes, not too noticeable, 

Geraldine Harris. Act II. Evening dress. Act IV, Shirt- 
waist and skirt, 

Zelda Saunders. Act II. Evening dress. Act IV. Shirt- 
waist and skirt, 

Mrs. Brownley. Act II. Black evening dress. Act IV. Suit. 



PROPERTIES 

Bell, telephone, victrola, piano, table lamp, package of Necco 
Wafers, fountain pen, paper, girl's picture, pack of cards, Algebra 
book, pipe, pack of Fatimas, victrola records (Barcarolle from 
Tales of Hoffman, Blue Danube, any fox trot), roll of money, keys, 
drum sticks, books for table, cornet (if Peanut can use one). 

CHARACTER SUGGESTIONS 

Willis. A large, strong young man, slightly older than the 
others. 

Stone. Ordinary boy. 
Kendall. A droll boy. 
Jones. A fat boy, if possible. 
Prof. Miller. Dignified. 
Geraldine. Tall, angular and proud. 
Zelda. Pretty and natural. 
Mrs. Brownley. Any type. 

STAGE DIRECTIONS 

C. means center, d. c. dov/n center, u. c. up center, D. R. down 
right, R. C. right center, u. R. C. up right center, D. L. down left, 
L, c. left center, u. l. c. up left center, c. e. center entrance, 
l. e. left entrance, r. e. right entrance. 



A College Man 



ACT I 

SCENE. — A fraternity study. Entrances r., l. and c. back. 
The enhance at R. is supposed to be to Willis' room ; that 
at L. to Stone's room ; the back entrance to the public hall. 
There is a victrola ifi upper rigJit cor tier of the stage , and a 
piano at upper left. A fireplace down r. with a chair in 
front of it. Just above door at l. is a desk. There is a 
table at c. zvith four chairs about it, and a sofa down L. 

(^Curtain discovers Ted Willis, Budd Stone and Bill 
Rendall playing cards at center table. Peanut Jones 
on sofa to l. Sounds of singing cafi be heard before cur- 
taifi is raised.) 

Ren. (pleading singing). 

I've second-handed ulsterettes, 
And everything else so fine, 
For all the boys they trade with me 
At one hundred and forty-nine. 



WiL. 

Stone 



(^joining'). 

Oh, Mister Levi, tra, la, la, la . , . 

Poor Sheeny Levi, tra, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, 

My name is Solomon Levi. 

At my store on Salem Street, 

There's where you buy your coats and vests, 

And everything else that's neat ; 

I've second- handed ulsterettes 

And everything else that's fine. 

For all the boys they trade with me 

At one hundred and forty-nine. 



b A COLLEGE MAN 

Pea. {chanting). At one hundred and forty-nine. {]\Ien 
at table arrange cards.) Sonae singer, 1 am. A regular little 
bird. I should flutter. (^Flutters artns.) 

(^Bell rings off maift entrance.) 

WiL. All right, Peanut, flutter down-stairs and see who's 
at the door. 

(^Exit Pea., main entrance. Ren. to fireplace ; looks worried. ) 

Ren. It's for me, I guess. I ought to be hearing about 
that math exam by now. 

VVii,. Do you think you got through? {\Valks to sofa.) 
Ren. Surest thing you know. It was a cinch. 
Stone. Do you have to pass it to stay in college ? 

{Plays idly with cards.) 

Ren. Right. My two exams in English were (^pausing) 
eminently unsuccessful. One of the questions requested me to 
tell who wrote '*To be or not to be," and also to state the 
occasion of the remark. I said that Solomon wrote it in his 
Proverbs when he was thinking about getting married again. 
I never knew until yesterday that Milton wrote it. 

{Others laugh.) 

WiL. Shakespeare, you poor nut. 

Ren. All right, Shakespeare then. But say, that was some 
joke. 

Enter Pea., maiti entrance. 

Pea. a letter for the Honorable William Rendall. {Up c.) 

Ren. Hand it here, boy, hand it here. {To r. c.) 

Pea. {turning letter over). It's from the College Office. 
Something tells me it brings bad news. 

Ren. I also have a premonition. {Sternly.) Freshman ! 

Pea. {attention). Yes, sir. 

Ren. Letter. 

Pea. {flipping letter to table). Let 'er flicker. 

Ren. {taking envelope, opens it slowly). Well, I'll be 
darned. {Ha7ids letter to Wil.) 

VViL. {reading). " Mr. Rendall : Failed in algebra. Re- 
examination September 20, 1914." 

Pea. My premonition was right. 



A COLLEGE MAN 7 

Ren. {rising). Dog-gone it, anyhow. I'll swear I got 
through that exam. (^Up R. c.) 

Pea. And now you're swearing because you didn't. Ain't 
nature wonderful ? (^Sits on table.) 

Ren. Aw, shut up. {Walks up and down room.) Darn 
the luck, anyhow. I'm stuck out, I guess. 

Pea. Humph, you talk as if you've done something big. 
Anybody can get stuck out. Even my chest can do that. 
{Puffs out chest. WiL. reaches over and knocks him on chest.) 
Puff ! {Loses his wind suddenly.) 

Stone. Look out, Peanut, or you'll blow us all away. 

Pea. It isn't the first time I've had to "blow." But 
listen, Bill; the reason some people never get ahead is because 
they haven't got a head. Now, look at me for instance. 

VViL. Stop the funny work, Peanut. (/"(^Ren.) You have 
another chance, haven't you, Bill? 

Ren. {bitterly). Yes, a fat chance I've got. Why, darn 
it, Ted, i know I got through that exam. It's "Johnny" 
Miller's fault. He doesn't like me; says 1 fool too much. It 
won't do any good to take another exam. I'm stuck out, as 
sure as fate. 

Stone. Can't you repeat ? 

Ren. Repeat ! Say, my Dad wouldn't even let me repeat 
the alphabet. He's a Phi Jakey Snapper man. It means I 
get through, or go home. And I have a very faint idea that 
I'm going home. 

WiL. Don't quit cold. Bill. Take a chance on the exam, 
and pass it. (Down r.) 

Ren. It means five bucks, and I'll probably have to stay 
home from the dance to-night. And, anyhow, I haven't got 
five dollars. {Up l.) 

Pea. {inotio7iing to Stone). Oh, John Jacob Astor will 
lend you that. He's the banker of this house. 

(Stone /dT/f^i- up and down l.) 

Ren. I'd do it if I thought I had a chance. But I haven't, 
fellows. That Prof, would slick me if I got a hundred. He's 
down on me, that's all there is to it. 

A'ViL. {earnestly). You're wrong. Bill. The profs as a 
whole are a pretty square bunch of men. 

(WiL. and Ren. down c. Pea. to fireplace.) 



8 A COLLEGE MAN 

Ren. Did you ever have Johnny Miller ? 

WiL. Yes. 

Ren. What do you think of him ? 

WiL. I think he's a good, square man. 

Ren. {ifnpatiently). Oh, it's all right for you to talk, you 
didn't get stuck. But I tell you, Ted, 1 got through that 
exam ; I know I did. The only stuff I didn't do was the 
Progressions. 

Pea. You ought to join the Progressive party. 

VViL. Shut up ! Why don't you go to see the Prof, and talk 
it over ? 

Ren. I might tell him what 1 think of him. {LaugJis.) 
Then I would get stuck out. 

VViL. Well, I've got to go to practice. Take another 
chance, that's my advice, Bill. 

(^Around right of table. Exit, main entrajice.^ 

Ren. {bitterly). I have half a mind to crib through the 
stuff. Other fellows do it. (JDoivn u.) 

Pea. Yes, but who are they ? " Mucker " James and men 
like him. He isn't a man, though, he's a mistake. {To C.) 

Ren. Oh, he isn't such a terribly bad scout. {Walks up 
and doivn room.) Darn it, I think I'll do it, Peanut. 

Pea. Well, it isn't my funeral. It seems to me, though, Pd 
rather get stuck out than crib. 

Ren. That's what we all think until we're going to get 
stuck out. It's easy enough not to cheat when you don't have 
to. {Turns to Stone.) What do you think about it, Budd ? 

Stone {slowly). 1 wouldn't skin when the Prof, places you 
on your honor, and treats you squarely. But if he's such a 
crab as Johnny Miller, and sticks you on purpose, I think you 
have a right to crib. {Dow7i c, left of table.) 

Ren. This man Miller isn't human. I could have gotten 
through last year if Pd cheated. And he'd probably think 
more of me at that. 

Stone. Can you crib the stuff you're taking with him? 

Ren. Man, I can be the best little cribber that ever was. 
Why, I spent the first year of my life in a crib. 

Pea. I don't approve. But now that you've decided, how 
are you going to do it ? {Down r.) 

Ren. Let me think. 

Pea. You want to look out. You might strain yourself. 



A COLLEGE MAN 9 

Ren. Did you ever hear about Jack Reimer ? About four 
years ago he made out a crib for calculus. But the crib was so 
large he divided it and put a bunch of papers in each pocket, 
and then he found he couldn't remember what stuff was in each 
pocket. So he made out an index, a regular crib for a crib. 
But when he got to class the poor boob couldn't find the paper 
with the index on it, and he got stuck — higher'n a kite. 

Pea. You ought to send that to Puck. 

Reint. I have an idea 

Pea. (JnterrupHfig). Budd, look, he has an idea. Where 
is it? {Hunts arou7id room?) 

Ren. Peanut, you're so bright your father calls you son. 
(^Groan.) But listen, you go over to Louis' and buy me a 
package of Necco Sweets, white ones. Be sure that they are 
white. 

Pea. What for ? 

Ren. Never mind ; go on over and hurry back. 

(^To fireplace.) 

Pea. Well, I don't like Necco Sweets much,- but I guess I 
can eat a couple. [Exit, main entrafice up C. 

Ren. Know what I'm going to do, Bud ? I'm going to 
copy formulas on those Neccos and then take the candies into 
the class room. After looking at the questions, I take out a 
candy, and if one of the formulas is on that piece, I copy it, 
and then (^putting hand to moutJi) away goes the evidence. If 
I have all the formulas in the package, by the time I get through 
eating, I'll know how to do every example. And the crib will 
be all eaten up. 

Stone. If you spent as much time studying as you do in 
thinking up these schemes, you'd be at the head of your class. 

Ren. {frowning^ I don't like the idea of cribbing very 
much. {Lightly.') Oh, well, it's the Prof.'s fault. Gosh, I'd 
like to meet Johnny Miller just about now. 

Stone. Do you think there's any chance of your getting 
stuck out? 

Ren. Not if I crib. 

Stone. And are you really going to crib ? 

Ren. What do you think I'm buying those Necco Sweets 
for ? Do you think I'd eat the blame things ? 

Stone {resignedly). Well, I guess you won't get stuck out 
then. 



10 A COLLEGE MAN 

Ren. {half resentfully). You talk as if you wanted me to 
get stuck out. {Down r. c.) 

Stone {slowly). No, I don't. {Rises.) I want to ask you 
something, Bill. {To c.) 

Ren. Go ahead ; even the profs like to ask me things. 

Stone. No, quit fooling. I'm in trouble, and 1 have to 
talk to some one about it. 

Ren. {changing). I'm sorry, Budd. Anything I can do? 

Stone. Yes, you can advise me. {Takes turn up and 
down room. Speaks, voice shaking slightly.) Ever since I 
came down here, Bill, I posed as a rich man's son. I spent 
lots of money, and 1 told you that my father owned the biggest 
estate up in Connecticut. But he doesn't. The big estate is a 
forty acre farm, and it hardly pays for itself. We are poor. 
Bill ; so poor that I haven't any right down here. 

Ren. What ! If you are poor, I wonder what the rest of 
us are? 

Stone. Quit fooling, Bill. I'm serious. When I left for 
college last week, there was some kind of note due that we ex- 
pected to pay by selling a corner lot on the farm. I brought 
down with me five hundred dollars, the bulk of this year's ex- 
penses. My parents have been saving up for years to get 
enough to send me to college, and this is the last of what ihey 
saved. I thought everything was all right, but yesterday I got 
a letter from Dad. It seems that he couldn't sell the corner lot 
after all, and he has to have five hundred dollars, or lose the 
farm ; a mortgage will be foreclosed. I don't know, but I 
don't see how it can be as bad as that. And now, if I send 
back the money, it means I'll have to quit college. {Doivn l.) 

Ren. Can't you get a job, and stick for a while ? 

Stone. 1 couldn't bear to do it. I've always posed as rich, 
and now, if I suddenly say I'm not, people will think I'm a 
fake. I am, I guess, but Bill, I couldn't do it. 

Ren. {practically). Tell 'em that your father lost all his 
money in a stock deal, and you have to work. You'd be a 
regular hero. 

Stone {rather impatiently). You don't understand. Bill. 
There's a girl in this. You know Zelda Saunders ? Well, I 
— I'm hit pretty hard with her. She thinks I'm rich, and if 
the money goes back, she'll know I'm a cheap skate, and I 
won't be able to take her anywhere, or anything. 

Ren. I always thought Ted and Zelda were pretty good 
friends. 



A COLLEGE MAN H 

Stone. They are. It's between Ted and me. Don't you 
see, if she knows he is rich and I am poor, I won't stand a chance. 

{Bell rings ifi hall. ) 

Ren. {earnestly). You're wrong, Budd. I don't think a 
thing hke that would make any difference to a girl like Zelda. 

Stone. I couldn't let her know. That's all there is to it. 
Dad has to get the money some way. Darn it, Bill, 1 don't 
know what to do. ( Walks tip and down room.) 

Enter Pea., main entrance ^ down R. 

Pea. {excitedly). Here's your crib, kid, quick, hide it. 
Johnny's down-stairs. 

Ren. Who? 

Pea. Johnny Miller, the "math" Prof. And he wants to 
see you. {Falls on Ren.'s shoulder in mock fai?it.) 

Ren. For the love of Mike, help. Where is he? 

Pea. Down-stairs. 1 told him you'd be down in a minute. 
Ted and some of the others are with him. 

Stone. Ask him up here, Bill; I'm going down-town. 

Ren. All right, Budd, thanks. {To Pea.) Peanut, you 
go in there. {Points to L. entrance.) If I do anything rash, 
you come out and restrain me. Will you ask him to come up, 
Budd? 

Stone. Surely. Watch out. Bill, he's a terrible crab. 

\^Exit, main e?itrance. 

Ren. If we were anywhere but in the Fraternity house, I 
could tell him what I think of him. But now I suppose I'll 
have to be decent. {Points to l. entrance.) Beat it. 

[ExitVEh.j L. entrance. 

Enter Stone and Professor " Johnny " Miller. 

Stone. Here's Professor Miller, Bill. 

Ren. {offering hand). How do you do, sir? Will you sit 
down ? 

Prof. Yes, I thank you. {Frof. on o?ie side 0/ tadle, "Rei:^. 
on the other.) I came to see you about your reexamination, 
Mr. Rendall. ' I sincerely regret that you did not pass. 

Ren. {half luwiorously). I feel ratlier bad about it myself. 
Professor, f thought surely I had gotten through. 

Prof. Your mark was exactly fifty-seven per- cent. I felt 
that I could not conscientiously give you another point. 



12 A COLLEGE MAN 

Ren. {f-esentfully'). I don't see how I could have failed. I 
did eight out of ten, and six of those must have been right. I 
knew the formulas. 

Prof. The third example was entirely wrong, llie first, 
fourth and eighth were right in method but wrong in arrange- 
ment and figuring. I gave you seven points in the first two, 
and five in the third. {JLarnestly,) I endeavored to give you 
a passing mark. 

Ren. {leaning forzvard, earnestly). Professor, I went over 
all those examination questions with a book after class. They 
were started right, anyhow, and I think I ought to be given 
some credit for that. {Resentfully.) It took me almost two 
hours to learn those formulas. 

Prof. Are you sure you learned the formulas? 

Ren. Learned them? Why, of course I did. {Pauses as 
meaning of reinat k becomes clear.) Do you mean to say you 
thought I cribbed them? 

{Rises, with hands in pockets, looks «/Prof.) 

Prof, {rising). Mr. Rendall, Pm sorry if I am misjudging 
you. But 1 shall speak frankly. You attempted to solve eight 
examples. In all of them the formula, generally the most dif- 
ficult feature, was correct. In four of them the work was en- 
tirely wrong. You do not understand the working principles 
of the subject. There are many ways of securing the correct 
formula. Do I make myself clear ? 

Ren. Perfectly clear, sir. You think that I cheated, so you 
stuck me. 

Prof. 1 failed to pass you because your work did not war- 
rant a mark of sixty. The other matter is a confidence between 
you and me. 

Ren. {pausing for a moment, takes pipe fro?n pocket). Do 
you mind if I smoke, sir ? 

Prof. Why, no. 

(Ren. fills pipe, lights it. Smokes for a minute. Prof. 
idly fifigers package of Necco Sweets.) 

Ren. Will you have a Necco Sweet ? 

Prof. No, I thank you. 

Ren. {walking le?igth of floor). Professor, you have been 
frank with me, and I am going to tell you just what I think 
about the thing. I didn't skin. I haven't cribbed since I 
entered high school. If a Prof gives me a square deal, I'm 



A COLLEGE MAN 



13 



willing to be square with him. But I don't think you've been 
square with rae. And now, when I take that reexam I'm going 
to crib every chance 1 get. {Down r.) 

Prof, (rishig). I'm sorry to hear you talk like that, Mr. 
Rendall. {Kindly.') We profs sometimes make mistakes, the 
same as the rest of you. We want to be fair with the boys, but 
sometimes we find a student w^ho resents our efforts and who 
thinks that all professors are his natural enemies. This is 
especially true in the first two years of college. But we want 
to be fair with you ; that is why I came here this afternoon. 

Ren. {f-espectfully). I know, sir; but still you thought 
that I cribbed those formulas. I tell you, Professor, there isn't 
much cheating in this college. The few fellows who make a 
practice of skinning are looke<l down on by the rest of us. But 
when a Prof, treats us like a lot of children who have to be 
watched all the time, we think that we have a right to cheat. 
It's a fair fight between the Prof, and us. 

Prof. No fight is fair which isn't fought aboveboard. 

Ren. I don't know, sir. When I take that reexam with 
you, I'll consider it a fair fight if 1 can crib and get through. 
If I didn't want to be fair I wouldn't tell you. {Bitterly.) 
Even now you think that I'm a cheat. {Down l.) 

Prof. No, I don't think so, Mr. Rendall ; I have every 
confidence in your truthfulness. Another year or two at col- 
lege, and you will see things in a different light. 

Ren. I don't know, sir. {Pause.) Perhaps I haven't got 
the right spirit, but it doesn't seem square to me. [Down c.) 

Prof. Mr. Rendall, I feel assured that when the test comes 
you will do the right thing. {Pause.) But about the reexam- 
ination. The marks must be in before to-morrow noon. Are 
you prepared to take the exam to-night? 

Ren. If I can borrow five dollars by that time I am. 

Prof. Your Fraternity, I believe, is going to give a dance 
this evening. I have been invited. If acceptable to you, I 
shall give you the examination in this room at seven o'clock. 

Ren. Why here? 

Prof. You will probably wish to attend the dance at the 
conclusion of the test. As I shall be here, the arrangement 
will be a convenience to each of us. 

Ren. We can probably have the room shut off until my fate 
is decided. 

Prof. Very well, Mr. Rendall. I shall be here at eight 
o'clock. 



14 A COLLEGE MAN 

Ren. {whimsically). I expect to be here myself. I'm much 
obliged to you, sir. 

Prof. I trust that you pass the examination to-night with 
honor. 

Ren. Thank you, sir. Will you let me see you down- 
stairs? 

Prof. I believe I can find the way. I lived here myself 
once, you know. Good-day, Mr. Rendall. {Offers handl) 

Ren. Good-day, sir. {They shake hands. Exit Prof., 
main entrance. E7iter Pea., l. entrance.) Darn it, Peanut, 
he isn't such a bad scout after all. 

Pea. What m the dickens did you tell him you were going 
to crib for ? 

Ren. I had to be honest about it. But do you know, I 
sort of hate to do it now. 

Pea. You told him you would. Now you'll have to. 

Ren. Yes, I guess I will. And, anyhow, he thought I 
cheated last time. Well, 1 said I'd do it, and I will. {Pause.) 
Oh, what do you think ? I offered him a Necco and he 
wouldn't take it. I guess I'll ask him again to-night. 

Pea. You'd better not. Don't trouble trouble till trouble 
troubles you. 

Ren. Well, we have to get to work. Have you got five 
dollars. Peanut? 

Pea, {falling against table, grasps head). Help ! 

Ren. Oh, well, I'll have to borrow it from Ted. 

Pea. If he hasn't got it, ask Budd. He's the rich man of 
the place. {Enter Stone, main efitrance.) Here he is now. 
Hand over five dollars, Mr. Vanderbilt. 

Ren. {hirriedly). Oh, no hurry. Come on. Peanut, we 
have to make out our crib. Get those Neccos. 

Pea. Make the crib a small one, Bill. I want to eat some 
of the formulas. 

{Front door bell rings.) 

Stone. When do you take your exam ? 

Ren. To-night, in this room. Do you think we can shut 
it off for an hour ? 

Stone. We expected to use this as a lounging room, but 
ask Ted. I guess it'll be all right. 

Enter Wil., 7nain entrance. He ivears football suit. 

WiL. Some one to see you, Budd. 



A COLLEGE MAN I5 

Stone. Who ? 

VViL. I don't know. Some old geezer who looks like a 
fanner. 

Stone. Tell him to come up, will you, Ted ? 
Ren. Well, I guess we'll go. Come on, Fatty. 

\_Exeunt Ren. and Pea, main entrance, 

(VViL. shows old ma?i to room. Wil. retires. Man e?iters. 
Stone down l., back to door.) 

Stone (Jookifig around^ starts back). My God, Dad, what 
are you doing here ? 

Mb. Stone. I come down, son, because you haven't an- 
swered my letter about the money. If we don't have it by 
Saturday, the place is lost. 

Stone {offering chair). Sit down ; let's talk the thing over. 

Mr. S. I won't keep you very long. I suppose you've 
been so busy that you haven't had time to write. I came 
down to New York to see about that sale, and when it fell 
through, I thought the only thing to do was to come here and 
get the money. 

Stone {walking to main entrance ^ pulls curtains together, 
makes grim face). Gosh darn it. 

Mr. S. I'm sorry I had to come down and show myself 
before all these rich friends of yours. But the mother said you 
wouldn't be ashamed of your old Dad. We've worked pretty 
hard for you, boy. 

Stone. Yes, of course. These men here aren't so rich, 
but they've always had things. They're gentlemen. 

Mr. S. Meaning that your father ain't. 

Stone. No, of course not. 

Mr. S. Boy, let me tell you something. It isn't good 
clothes and nice manners that make a gentleman. What counts 
is the man himself. Any boy who does the right thing at the 
right time is a gentleman. (Pause.) Your mother sends her 
love. She is well. 

Stone. She is? {Rises.) Well, what about the money? 
Can't you borrow it somewhere? 

Mr. S. Up where we come from, boy, we don't have 
money to give away ; we are poor, most of us, and every dol- 
lar counts. 

Stone. You managed to get enough to send me to college. 

Mr. S. Yes, we did, after twenty years of saving. 

Stone {impatiently). Oh, I've heard all that before. 



l6 A COLLEGE MAN 

Mr. S. (slozuly). You've changed some down here. 

Stone. Of course I have. {Turns to father.') But about 
the money ! You can get it, can't you ? 

Mr. S. Do you think I'd face this {fnotioni?ig to room atid 
gaudy surroundings) if I could get it somewhere else ? 

Stone. Well, what are you going to do? 

Mr. S. Do? Why, the only thing to do is to get the 
money from you. {Passiofiately.) I wouldn't do it, boy, if 
there was any other way. 

Stone (^desperately). Dad, can't you come around again ? 
We're going to have a house party this afternoon, and I'm 
busy. (Looks at watch.) 

Mr. S. There won't be no need of my coming again. 
Maybe I can send you some money soon. We're still hoping 
to sell the field. 

Stone. Can't you sell it before Saturday? 

Mr. S. No. 

Stone (^desperately). Can't you do anything? 

Mr. S. We can't do anything. I'm sorry to take your col- 
lege money, but — but it's the only way. 

Stone (sittings puts head i?i hands). It means I've got to 
quit college. 

Mr. S. No, no — not that. Can't you find something to 
do ? Other boys earn money at college. 

(Walks nearer Stone.) 

Stone (looking up). Dad, people here think I'm rich. If 
I get a job they'll know I'm poor. I'd rather leave. 

Mr. S. The job wouldn't make any difference, would it, to 
your Fraternity men and the boys of your class? 

Stone (shortly). I wasn't thinking of them. 

Mr. S. (rising, walks over to son). Son, you know your 
Dad wouldn't hurt you if he could help it. Me and the mother 
have v/orked hard to send 3'ou down here. We've mortgaged 
the home, aiMl she — she wore a straw hat all winter. It meant 
a little something for you. (Changes.) I'm sorry, son — give 
me check or cash and I'll go back. Things will come out all 
right. Maybe I can send you a little something soon. 

Stone (rising, looking at father). Dad, I can't do it ; I 
can't give you the money, 

Mr. S. (starting back). You can't? Have you spent ths 
money ? 



A COLLEGE MAN 



17 



Stone. No, I haven't spent it. It's in that drawer {vio- 
tioning to table) and here's the key. 1 haven't spent it yet, but 
I'm going to. Mortgage the place, or get the money somehow. 
I can't leave this and go back there. 

Mr. S. You mean you won't? 

Stone (^facing father across table'). I mean I won't. 

(^Emphatically^ 

Mr. S. Why? 

Stone. Dad, I can't do it. I won't do it. There's a girl 
down here, and she thinks I'm rich. If she knew I am poor, 
she wouldn't have anything to do with me. I love her, Dad, 
and I'm going to keep the money for her. 

Mr. S. Girls don't count at a time like this. 

Stone. They do. What does a mortgage count when my 
whole future is at stake ? 

Mr. S. (angrily). I'm your father, and I command you to 
give me that money. 

Stone. Father or not, I won't do it. You gave me the 
money and I'm going to keep it. I'm of age now, and you 
can't make me give it up. 

Mr. S. {slowly). So this is what we've made of you, our 
only son. {Angrily.) Do you mean to say you'd go back on 
your father and mother who've slaved for you for twenty-odd 
years? Is this the pay we get? Is this what college teaches 
you? Shall I go home and tell her what you've done? 

Stone {touched). Dad, I can't, I can't. You don't un- 
derstand. It means everything to me. 

Mr. S. And what does it mean to us — home, bread and 
butter, and a roof over our heads. I'm ashamed to call you my 
son. (Hits table.) By God, that money's mine; and I'll 
take it home with me if I have to steal it. 

(^Voices sound in hall.) 

Stone. Dad, not so loud. They'll hear you. 
Mr. S. Let them hear. Call them in and tell them what 
we're talking about. 

{Sound of voices near entrance.) 

Stone (quickly, 7notions to door). Quick, Dad, in there. 
Mr. S. (dropping ha?id, pauses, fakes step toward \u. en- 
trance). My God, so you're ashamed of your Dad ? 



1 8 A COLLEGE MAN 

Stone Qnotionifig). Quick. 

(Mr. S. hangs head. Exit, l. entrance.^ 

Eftter WiL., fnain e?itra/ice, i7i football suit. 

WiL. Did I leave my head-guard here, Budd ? Scrimmage 
this afternoon. 

Stone. 1 think I saw it on your bureau. 

[^:v?/WiL., R. entrafice. 

Enter Wil., r., ivith head-guard. 

Wil. (^pausing\ Who was the old fogy? 

Stone. Just a man to see me. He wanted some money. 
He's gone now. 

WiL. Anything I can do ? 

Stone (^glancing toward l. entrance^. No, 1 guess I'll tidy 
up the room a bit for to-night. So long, Ted. 

VViL. Well, I'll see you later. (^Looks at Stone queerly.) 
So-long. 

{Exit, maifi entrance. Stone matches him go. waits a mo- 
ment, goes to main entrance, looks out of door. Walks 
slowly to L. entrance. Exit, L. entrance.') 



CURTAIN 



ACT II 

SCENE I. — The satiie. Time— Evening of the same day. 
(^Curtain discovers Ren. and Pea. sitting at table.) 

Ren. (^fondling pile of Necco Sweets ; opens algebra book 
on table ; reads). Find the value of (Mtimbles an alge- 
bra problem. Takes up Necco wafer. Reads formula aloiid. ) 
You see, Fatty, there is the formula. All I have to do is to 
put it on paper and work the thing out. 

Pea. Didn't Johnny say that your working principles were 
weak ? 

Ren. Oh, you leave that to me. I'm strong on principles. 
My uncle once was the principal of a high school. 

Pea. Pretty soon you'll be saying that you don't mind get- 
ling stuck out; but you're doing this just for the principle of 
the thing. 

Ren. I am. 

Pea. You're a darned hypocrite. You mind getting stuck 
out about as much as I'd mind losing my mind. {Slaps Ren. 
on back.) Some joke, hey, kid? 

Ren. {clryly). You can't lose what you haven't got. 
(Rises.) I'll tell you what you could spare, though — a little 
flesh. Do you know, I never knew the advantage of being 
skinny until I met you. You look like a hard-boiled egg. 

Pea. Well, there's one good thing about a hard-boiled egg, 
anyhow. It can't be beat. 

Ren. Say, you ought to send that joke to a magazine. 
{Goes to table, takes candies and places them in different pock- 
ets of his coat and vest.) Do you notice, Peanut, that I'm 
wearing a vest to-night? I hope the darn candies don't rattle. 

Pea. Oh, if they do, Johnny'il think they're your brains. 

Ren. {ignoring thrust). Say, who are you going to bring 
to-night? 

Pea. {proudly). Oh, my partner is the belle of the city. 

{Struts around.) 

Ren. Who? Katy Moon face? 

19 



20 A COLLEGE MAN 

Pea. No. Listen, boy; to-night I will have the honor of 
cutting you out. Last year you went to see her, but after the 
second time you didn't go again. She hasn't been the same 
since. 

Ren. Who is she, Geraldine Harris ? 

Pea. Right. (^Raises hand tragically. Sifigs to time of 
'' Sweet Adelaide:') Oh, Geraldine. My Geraldine ! 

{Holds hands up tragically.) 

Ren. So you're bringing that lemon? Well, I'll eat my 
hat. 

Pea. You got mixed up in your fruit. She ain't a lemon, 
she's a peach. 

Ren. Well, go ahead and take her. What are you going 
to talk about ? 

Pea. Talk about ? Why — er — about her — and me. 

{Taps hi7n self 071 chest.) 

Ren. Some conversation you'll have. But say, Peanut, I 
went to see that girl twice, and I haven't even kissed her yet. 

Pea. Who do you think she is, Nellie the Beautiful Cloak 
Model? But honestly. Bill, she's all right, isn't she? 

Ren. Yes, 1 guess she is; only she's too stuck up. She 
thinks that she und Gott und der Kaiser rule the world. I'd 
give almost anything to be able to shock her just for once. 
{Slowly.) Do you know, if I got stuck out, I think I'd go to 
see her, and do that little thing. 

Pea. What little thing? 

Ren. Shock her. 

Pea. How? 

Ren. Oh, hold her hand or something. {Bell rings.) 
There's Johnny, Peanut. Make a noise like an tgg and beat 
it. 

Pea. You can't beat a hard-boiled Qgg. But nevertheless, 
ril go. Good luck. Save me some of that crib, will you ? 

(Ren. pats pockets hurriedly ; sits in chair by tables book in 
hand. ) 

E filer WiL. and Prof. , main entrance. Latter has papers. 

WiL. Here is Professor Miller, Bill. 

Ren, {rising, offers hand). Good-evening, Professor. 

\^Exeunt Pea. and Wil., main entrance. 



^ A COLLEGE MAN 21 

Prof. Good-evening, Mr. Rendail. You are ready to take 
the examination, I trust? 

Ren. {patting pockets). All ready, sir. 

Prof. I shall give you eight examples which, I believe, 
thorouglily cover the work done last term. You will be given 
an hour in which to finish. Is there any especial place you 
would like to sit ? 

Ren. ingoing to far side of table'). I generally study here. 
I think I can work better in this seat. 

Prof. That is perfectly acceptable to me. Have you a 
pen ? 

Ren. (^taking fountain pen fro?n vest pocket). Yes, sir. 

Prof, {laying papers on table, gives Ren. blue book). You 
know the conditions of the examination, I believe? 

Ren. Yes, sir. (W/iinisically.) I have taken them before. 

Puof. {selecting paper). Here are the questions. 

Ren. {taking paper, does not look at it). Professor Miller, I 
can generally work better with a pipe in my mouth. Do you 
mind if I smoke? 

Pkof. {after a short pause). I believe, Mr. Rendail, that 
such action would be against the college rules. I prefer that 
you do not. 

Ren. {taking four unmarked Necco 7vafers from his pocket). 
Do you mind if I nibble a candy, sir? They are Necco Sweets. 

Prof, {smiling). I have no objection to that. 

Ren. {taking paper, reads it over, smiles to himself). I 
think I can just about pass this, sir. 

Prof. I trust you can. {Short pause.) If you wish, you 
may remove your coat and vest. It is rather warm this even- 
ing. 

Ren. {starting). Why — er — I guess this is all right, sir. 

{Looks embarrassed.) 

Prof. I thought probably you would be more comfortable 
without a coat. 

Ren. I thank you, but I guess I'm better the way I am. 

{Takes up pen, scans paper. Prof, ivalks to the opposite 
wall ; looks at picture, L. c. Ren. slips a Necco from his 
pocket. Looks at it. Shakes head. Slips candy into 
his mouth. Prof, looks around. Ren. scratches head, 
looks at paper. Prof, takes out watch, looks at it, stands 
a nioment irresolutely.) 



22 A COLLEGE MAN 

Prof. Mr. Rendall, Dr. Thompson, a classmate of mine, is 
in the lower room. I am going down to talk with him. You 
will continue your work as if I were here. ( Walks to door ; 
stops, turfis and looks squarely at Ren. Slowly.') I place 
you on your honor, sir. \_Exit at main entrance. 

Ren. {ilropping pe7i, looks at doo?^. Well, what do you 
know about that ! The darned lobster. {Takes up pen. Looks 
at blue book. Takes up question paper. Reads.) A freely 
falling body falls approximately 16 feet the first second and in 
each second thereafter 32 feet more than in the preceding sec- 
ond, A stone dropped from the top of a tower strikes the 
ground in four seconds. How high is the tower, and how 
far did the stone fall the last second? {Takes Necco from 

pocket. Reads.) ^='1 ^% P^^^^ \>- Well, I'll be darned; 

there's the formula for that example. {Drops pen on table. 
Holds Necco in hand, looks at it. Puis Necco on table. 
Places chin in hand, looks into the distance. Reaches for 
pipe. Fills it with tobacco. Lights it. Puffs. Takes up pen 
and starts to write. Stops. Puts pen doivn again. T^cikes up 

Necco. Reads.) ^^^=| ^% P^"' ^2>- {Lays down candy. 

Gets up. Walks length of room. Makes gesture.) Gosh 
darn it. {Takes candies out of various pockets. Lays them 
071 table. Takes tvaste basket fro7n tinder the table. Picks up 
first Necco. Looks at it. Breaks it ifi half. Drops it de- 
liberately in basket. Takes other candies. Drops them slowly 
in basket. Places basket under table. Speaks disconsolately^ 
Now 1 am stuck. (Picks up pen. Opens book to first page. 
Writes. Reads aloud.) I pledge my honor as a gentleman 
that 1 have neither given nor received aid during this examina- 
tion. {Short pause.) I wonder if this is what he means by 
the college spirit. {Looks off into distance.) 

CURTAIN 

{Curtain denotes passing of forty minutes.) 

SCENE 2. — The same. Time — Forty ?ninutes later. 

{Curtain discovers Pea. a/id Geraldine Harris /;/ room. 
Pea. standing, Ger. playing pia?io idly.) 

Pea. Can you play ''Sweet Adeline," Miss Harris? 



A COLLEGE MAN 23 

(JLooks at her lofigingly.^ 

Ger. (JiaiigJilily). I really do not consider it worth while 
to learn ragtime, Mr. Jones. 

Pea. (^placing hand on forehead, as if struck). Oh! {^Re- 
covers.') But that ain't ragtime, that's a good, old-fashioned 
song. 1 always think of you when I play that. 

Ger. {raising brows). Indeed. 

Pea. {coifusedly). Er — er — yes. {Recovering^ shivers.) 
Br-r-r. Gee, it's cold around here. 

(Ger. turns away ; idly fingers keys.) 

Enter Ren., mai?i entrance. 

Ren. Hello, Peanut. {Bows deeply to Q^w.) Good-even- 
ing, Miss Harris. Rather warm to-night, isn't it? (r. of piano ^ 
Ger. Good-evening, Mr. Bailey. Yes, it is rather warm. 

{Looks at Pea. Pea. fixes collar, looks uncomfortable.) 

Ren. Peanut, did you hear about my exam? 1 am now a 
member of the College x^luminum Association. 

Pea. What? Did you get stuck out? 

Ren. Right. Johnny, the old dub, stuck me. 

Pea. And your crib? 

Ren. {inotioning Pea. to keep still, indicating Ger.). Yep, 
any man baby enough to get stuck in algebra ought to buy a 
crib. It was a pretty hard exam, though {slowly), the hardest 
I ever took. 

Pea. Well, I'll be darned. 

{Glances at Ger., zvho is watching him with disapproval. 
Quickly places hand over mouth.) 

Ger. If you gentlemen will excuse me, I think I shall hunt 
up Zelda. She's up-stairs, I guess. 

Pea. {hurriedly). Oh, don't go. 

Ger. {as Zelda Saunders passes door, main entrance). 
There she is now. I will see you later, Mr. Jones. Good-bye, 
Mr. Bailey. \^Exit, main entrance. 

Pea. {slowly). I don't seem to be making much of a hit. 

Ren. Nobody ever does — with her. 

Pea. {enviously). She smiled at you, all right. 

Ren. {puffing out chest). Oh, well 



24 A COLLEGE MAN 

Pea. I guess she couldn't help it, though. I smile some- 
times myself. {Changes.) But say. what about that exam? 
Did you really get stuck ? 

Rfc:N. Stuck higher'n a kite. Why, I didn't even try the 
dam thing. 

Pea. What was the matter with your crib? 

Ren. Nothing. But do you know what Johnny Miller did ? 
He gave me the questions, hung around for a minute and then 
went out. He said he was placing me on my honor. {^Gesture 
of hopelessness.) So there you are. 

Pea. Well, the dirty devil. Couldn't you do it without 
your crib? 

Ren. I don't know, I didn't try. If I had done it by my- 
self and had passed, he might have thought 1 cheated. 

Pea. So you're stuck out ? 

Ren. {sadly). Yes, Pm stuck out. 

Pea. {brighle?iing). What did you do with the candies? 

Ren. I threw them away. 

Pea. Well, that's what I call extravagance. A whole 
nickel wasted ! And look at all the time we took copying 
those formulas ! 

( To 2vaste basket under table. Takes out candies. Eats them.) 

Ren. Oh, well, Peanut, we should worry. 

Pea. {sadly). Well, we both have our troubles. You're 
stuck out, and Pve brought Geraldine Harris to the dance. I 
had to spend two dollars for a cab, too. 

Ren. [suddenly). By Jove, Peanut, what do you think ? 

Pea. I think PU beat it back to Geraldine. It's time for 
the first dance. 

Ren. No, listen. Do you remember this afternoon when I 
said that if I got stuck out, how much I'd like to shock your 
girl ? 

Pea. Don't call her my girl. Yes, I remember. 

Ren. Well, I am stuck out. Why can't I do my little stunt 
to-night? 

Pea. I don't know why you can't. {Sadly.) But it 
wouldn't take much to shock her. All you have to do is act 
natural. 

Ren. If I get in wrong it won't matter, because Pm going 
home. I'll never see her again, anyway. 

Pea. Go ahead and shock her. What can I do to help 
along ? 



A COLLEGE MAN 25 

K.EN. You can do a lot. Give me a dance. 

Pea. Who will I dance with then ? 

Ren. Nobody. The girl I didn't bring ought to be grate- 
ful. She won't liave to dance with you. 

Pea. Well, yoU ain't any Vernon Castle yourself. 

Ren. 1 know it. But listen ; 1 want to sit it out and shock 
her. 

Pea. Where? 

Ren. Right here. 

Pea. Can I ring in anywhere? 

Ren. You can look on if you hide in the other room. 

Pea. All right, you can have the second dance. It's a go. 

Ren. Shake. 

{They shake hands.) 

Pea. Well, 1 have to go and tell Geraldine Pve given you 
a dance. She'll probably be sore. (^Goes to main entrance. 
Meets Stone and Zel.) Good-evening. 

[Exit, main entrance. 

Stone. How did you get along in your exam, Bill? 

Ren. Got stuck. Pm going home to-morrow. 

Stone. That's hard luck. You know Miss Saunders, don't 
you ? 

Ren. Pve heard a good deal about Miss Saunders. I am 
pleased to meet you. (Zel. bows, offers him her hand.) 
I'm going down-stairs and see if 1 can pick up a couple of 
dances. Have you any open, Budd ? 

Stone. Sorry, Bill, Pm all filled up. 

Ren. Well, Pm sorry, too. Whenever I want a dance with 
a nice girl, it's always that way. {Smiles at Zel.) Pm pleased 
to have met you. \^Exit, main entrance. 

{Tj^i.. sits on sofa, Stone beside her.) 

Stone. It's nice to see you again. It seems years since 
Pve seen you. 

Zel. {smiling). Two days. Have you forgotten that you 
were at my house Monday? 

Stone {frankly). No. Since then I haven't thought of 
anything else. {Music plays ^^ Barcarolle,'' to give effect of 
music down-stairs in the ballroom.) There's the first dance. 
Do you mind sitting it out? 

Zel. Not with you, Budd. 



26 A COLLEGE MAN 

Stone. They're playing ''Oh, Night of Love." Whenever 
I hear that now, I'll think of you. 

Zel. Why? 

Stone. Music like that always reminds me of you, anyhow. 

But to-night ! It's the 'first time we'^ve been alone since 

last June. 

Zel. And all this summer you've been up there in that big 
house of yours, swimming and boating, and talking to girls 
like this, haven't you, Budd? 

Stone {ivincing^. No. I've been working, on the farm, 
all summer. 

Zel. {indulgently). You know you couldn't work like that, 
Budd. What would your father say ? 

Stone {frowning). My father? Oh, he wants me to 
work. 

Zel. {eariiestly). I wonder, Budd, if you ever had any real 
work to do, how you would go about it ? Supposing you were 
poor, and had to work. What would you do? 

Stone. I don't know. 

Zel. I'm sure, though, you'd do something worth while. 
But first you'd have to wake up. You're drifting along, Budd. 

Stone {rising). Let's not talk about me. Tell me what 
you've been doing. Have you had any crushes this summer? 

Zel. Don't be foolish, Budd. I met lots of boys, and I 
liked them all. 

Stone {walking to table, handles books, takes up object, puts 
it down again). I guess you like every one, don't you? 

Z£L. Almost every one. 

Stone {playing with object on table). Do you like me? 

Zel. ^Vhy, of course 1 do. 

Stone {going to sofa, sits dotvn, turns to girl). Zelda, 
please don't be angry at what I'm going to say. {Voice shakes 
slio^htly.) You know, don't you, girl, that I've always been 
crazy about you? And to-night 1 can't help it, I simply have 
to tell you. I love you, I love you. 

Zel. Budd, please don't say anything more. You know 
that I like you lots and lots, but 1 don't think 1 love you — yet. 

Stone {i7iterrzipti?ig, earnestly). You can, though, I know 
you can; and I want you to more than anything in the world. 
There never was any one but you. {Pause. Music cloivn- 
stairs plays " Oh, Night of Love.'') Listen, dear, this is our 
night. I want you so, 

Zel. Don't, Budd ; it isn't time to say those things now. 



A COLLEGE MAN 27 

We're both young, and maybe we don't know our minds. 
You're not ready yet to — to take care of a girl. Since you've 
been in college, you've had everything you want. You've been 
drifting along. I like you, Budd ; 1 almost love you, but [ 
can't do what you say until 1 know you better. Until you've 
proved that you can do sometliing else but drift. (Puis her 
hand in his.) I'm sorry, Budd, but we'd better wait a while. 
Maybe you will change in a year or so. 
Stone, i won't, 1 won't. I love you. 

(^Reaches out his arms.) 

Zel. (^putting up her hand). No, Budd, not that. 

{Music stops.) 

Stone ( putting head in hands). It's all over, I guess. 

Zel. Why, Budd ? Can't we just be friends, and wait ? 

Stone. Yes, I suppose we'll have to. (Earnestly.) But 
if I only could prove to you that I can do things. Suppose I 
wasn't rich 

Enter Pea. and Ger., main entrance. Stone looks up 
angrily. 

Pea. Sorry to disturb you, but we're looking for Bill, 
Have you seen him ? 

Stone. He isn't in here. {To Ger.) Good-evening, Ger- 
ald ine ; you're quite a stranger. 

Ger. Good-evening, Budd. 

Enter Ren., main entrance. 

Ren. I just told the band to play a fox- trot. 

Ger. Oh, I adore fox-trots. 

Ren. So do I; only 1 can't do them. {Music starts fox- 
trot. Ren. to Ger.) You don't mind if we sit this out, do 
you ? 

Ger. Why, no. 

Stone. VVell, be good, Bill. 

\^E.xeunt Stone andZ'E.h., main entrance. 

Pea. I think I'll trot out of the door. I will see you young 
people later. 

{Bows. Exitf R. e. Ger. sits 07i sofa. Ren. walks once 
up and down the room. Sits beside Ger.) 



18 A COLLEGE MAN 

Ren. I'm sorry I don't fox-trot. I suppose you'd much 
rather dance than talk to me? 

Geu. Oh, no, I'm rather tired. In fact, I had the last 
dance with Mr. Jones. 

(Pea. looks out of door ^ r. e., arid sticks out tongtie.') 

Ren. {seeing Pea.). Yes, he's pretty fat for a dancer. 

Ger. He is rather heavy. 

Ren. It's a shame to waste a nice girl like you on him. 
Now, if you had only come with me. 

Ger. Qiemurely). I might have, if you had asked me. 

Ren. Do you know, I was going to ask you. But I thought 
probably you'd rather go with Peanut. 

Ger. Oh, you mean Mr. Jones? How could you think 
such a thing ? 

(Pea. looks out door, shakes fist.) 

Ren. (boldly). You're some girl, Geraldine. You don't 
mind if 1 call you that, do you ? 

Ger. {coldly). I had rather you would not. {CJianges.) 
Oh, well, I believe I shall let you call me Geraldine {coyly) if 1 
may call you Bill. 

Ren. Call me William. 

Ger. Why not Bill? 

Ren. Why, you see it would be different. Everybody 
calls me Bill, but you're not like any one else. 

Ger. All right, William, 1 will. 

Ren. It sounds like a coachman, but I guess that doesn't 
matter. 

Ger. You came to see me once or twice last year. Didn't 
you have a good time? 

Ren. Sure. {Then suddenly.) I think you're a peach. 

Grr. {laith dignity). Why — I'm not accustomed to being 
spoken to like that. 

Ren. {laughing). I don't speak to many girls that way, 
but gee ! I have an awful crush on you. 

Ger. {suddetily changing attitude). Why, William ! 

Ren. {reaching for Ger.'s hand ; aside). Now for the 
shock. {To Ger.) You don't mind if I hold your hand, do 
you ? 

Ger. {looking puzzled). Why — er — {giving him her hand) 
not if it's you, William. 



A COLLEGE MAN 29 

(Pea. looks through r. e. afid applauds silently. Ren. holds 
hand awkwardly.) 

Ren. I think you had better call me Willie. {Awkward 
pause.) Say, 1 didn't know you were like this. 

Ger. I'm not, generally. Do you know, you're the first 
boy who's ever held my hand. 

Ren. i^sadly). Yes, 1 guess I am. 

Geu. Do you really like me lots — Willie? (Pea., from 
R. E., laughs loudly. Ren. and Ger. start. Ren. drops 
hand.) Oh, v»^hat was that? 

Ren. {sitting agaiii). That was only Peanut. He's in next 
door. You don't need to worry about him. 

Ger. Wouldn't it have been awful if he'd seen us holding 
hands? He might have thought we were engaged. 
• Ren. {confusedly). Do you know, I thought you'd be sore. 

Ger. No, not with you, Bill. I think 1 like that name 
best. 

Ren. {disconsolately). Willie is the best name for me. 

Ger. (placing hand in Ren.'s). You know we shouldn't 
hold hands unless we're engaged. 

Ren. {starting to feet). You don't mean to say you like 
me, do you? 

Ger. Why, of course I do. Let's go somewhere ; just us 
two. 

Ren. I think we're gone already. 

{Sound of Pea. singing in next room, ^^OJi, the High Cost 
of Loving.^* Enter Pea,, r. e. Ger. looks at him 
angrily.) 

Pea. {winking at Ren). Did you sit out all this dance, 
Bill? 

Ren. Yes. {Turns to Ger.) We had lots of fun, didn't 
we? 

Ger. Yes, indeed. {Enter Mrs. Brown ley, Stone a?id 
Z1-.1.., ?nain. entrance.) Good-evening, Mrs. Brownley. 

Mrs. B. Good-evening. 

Stone {to Ger.). The next is my dance, isn't it, Ger- 
ald ine? 

Pea. {intervening, dance card in hand). Yes, I believe 
it is. 

{Music, *' Blue Danube,'' starts up.) 



30 



A COLLEGE MAN 



Ger. (offering hand to ^y.^.). Good-bye, Bill. 

Ren. \taking hand^. Good-night. (Stone offers Gef. 
his arm. Exeunt in company with Mrs. B. and Pea., main 
entrance.) Have you this dance. Miss Saunders ? 

Zel. Yes, thank you, I have it with Mr. WiUis. 

E.EN. I'll find him for you. \_Exit^ main entrance, 

(Zel. walks aroutid room. Goes to Stone's desk. Takes 
up picture of herself . Looks at it.) 

Enter Wil., main entrance. 

WiL. Oh, here you are. I've been looking all over for 
you. 

Zel. Is this the picture I gave you, or is it Budd's ? 

Wil. It's B.udd's. I keep mine in there {i?idicati?ig r. e), 
where no one can see it. 

Zel. Why ? 

Wil. I don't think it's right to hang your picture where 
every one can look at it. 

Zel. Budd does. 

Wil. Yes, but maybe it's different with him. (Short 
pause.") Do you mind if we sit out this dance ? 

Zel. I was just going to suggest it. 

(Wil. walks to table. Zel. sits on chair , R. c.) 

Wil. (playing idly with book). How long have we known 
each other, Zelda? 

Zel. Since you were in Prep School ; six years, I guess. 

Wil. And I only have one more year in CoUegeville. I 
wonder if I'll see you much after graduation. 

Zel. I hope so. 

Wil. Do you think you'll miss me? 

Zel. Of course I will. 

Wil. (walki?tg length of room, slowly). I wonder if you 
know how much I'll miss you. 

Zel. Oh, don't let's talk about that now. We have a 
whole year yet. 

Wil. And this year will you let me see you lots and lots? 

Zel. I expect to be pretty busy, Ted, but you know you're 
always welcome. 

Wil. Budd and I just about monopolized you last year, 
didn't we? 

Zel. Yes, I guess you did. 



A COLLEGE MAN 3 1 

WiL. And before that I had you all to myself. (Pause. 
Sou fid of music playing <* The Blue Danube.'') Do you re- 
member the first dance in my Freshman year ? They played 
**The Blue Danube" then, and I had the waltz with you. 

Zel. Yes, it was when the "Boston" was all the rage. 
Do you remember those long glides, Ted ? (^Fause.^ 

WiL. I always remember everything that has to do with 
you. (^Goes suddenly to couch; sits down, facing girl.^ 
Zelda, I'm not much at saying things, but you must know how — 
what I think about you. This summer, in the mountains 

Zel. {interrupting). Don't, Ted. Wait a moment, I want 
to tell you something. 

WiL. I don't want to hear it. Listen, girl. 

Zel. No, not now. Wait until I tell you what I have to 
say. 

WiL. Zelda, won't you listen to me? 

Zel. It's about Budd. (Pause.') To-night he asked me 
to marry him, and I told him no. (Wil. starts forward.) 
But listen ! Ted, I love him, although I wouldn't tell him so. 
And now I want you to help me. He is rich ; he has never had 
any problems to solve, and I'm not sure that he could face a 
big thing and win out. So I told him to wait. I want him to 
prove himself a real man (then softly) like you are, Ted. 

Wil. (putting head tji hands, rises, ivalks length of floor ; 
faces girl). He must be a real man, or he couldn't have 
made you care for him. 

Zel. Thank you, Ted. 

Wil. (steadily). You must know, now, that I care more 
for you than for anything in the world. But we must forget 
that. I've roomed with Budd for three years, and I know him 
well. Take him, girl ; you won't make a mistake. 

Zel. (rising). And this won't change things with us? May 
I still count you the best friend I have ? 

Wil. Yes, the best friend you have. 

(Zel. offers hand. Wil. takes it in firm grip of friendship.) 
Enter Stone and Pea., 7nain entrance. 

Stone. Oh, I beg your pardon. (Looks suspicious.) 
Wil. (droppiftgZEi..'?, hand). It's all right, Budd. Zeida 

and I were just sealing a compact. We've agreed to be the 

best of friends. 



32 A COLLEGE MAN 

Stone. Would you like to take a walk before the next 
dance, Zelda ? 

Zel. Yes, if Ted will excuse me. 

WiL. Certainly. I thank you for that dance. 

Zel. And I thank you. {^Offers her hand. They- shake.') 
Good-bye, Ted. [^Exeunt Stone and Zel,, main en/?ance. 

(WiL. goes to tabkf takes cigarette. Lights it. Pea. sits 
on couch.') 

WiL. Peanut, have you ever felt as if nothing that you do 
counts for anything ? {Sits on corner of table.) 

Pea. Yes, that's generally the way 1 feel. 

WiL. No, quit fooling. Have you ever felt as if you didn't 
give a care what happened, as if you couldn't get anything at 
all worth while ? 

Pea. No. Why? 

WiL. Oh, nothing. Only that's the way I feel now. 

Pea. I don't see what you're crabbing about. You're foot- 
ball captain, President of the Senior class, and lots of things. 
You haven't any right to feel that way; you always get every- 
thing you want. 

WiL. No, not everything, Peanut. 



CURTAIN 



ACT III 

SCENE. — 77/^ same. Tune— 2 : 30 A. M. 

(WiL. and Stone sitting in room s mo king. ~) 

Stone. Some dance, led ? 

WiL. Yes. Every one had a good time, I guess. 
Stone. How about the giils.? Did you get a crush? 
WiL. No, not a crush; I'm too old for that. 

{Short pause. ) 

^TO-i<i^ {leaning forward, pipe in hand). Listen, Ted. To- 
night I proposed to Zelda. 

VViL. I know. Slie said so. 

Stone. What, she told you ? 

WiL. Yes. [Softly.) I've known her for a long time, 
Budd. 

Stone (examining pipe). So she told you ? I wonder why ? 

WiL. {franlzly). Because I asked her to marry me. 

Stone {looking up). What ! 

WiL. {calmly). She said that she liked me lots, but that she 
didn't love me, and never could. 

Stone. Do you know what she said to me ? 

WiL. Yes, a little. 

Stone. She said that she didn't love me yet; that I was 
rich and lazy, and drifting along. 

WiL. {leaning for7uard, hands on knees, looking at Stone). 
She told me she does love you. 

Stone. Gad, if she does ! 

WiL. But she wants you to buckle down and do something 
worth while. Why don't you, Budd? 

Stone. I'm going to, Ted. {Stands up.) Why, I'd <]o 
anything at all for her. {Walks over to desk, takes picture, 
looks at it.) She's only a kid, and she isn't so very pretty — 
but, Ted, what a girl to have ! (Looks at picture a minute, 
places it back on desk, walks to fireplace. Changes tone.) I'm 
going to bed. 

33 



34 A COLLEGE MAN 

WiL. {rising). Budd, if I can ever do anything to help 
you, let me know. You and Zelda are the two best friends I 
have. (Holds out hajid. They shake.') Good-night. 

Stone (r. of table). Thank you, Ted. {Short pause, 
both embarrassed. Stone takes keys and purse out of coat. 
Places them on table. Throws coat on chair.) Good-night, 
Ted. \^Exit, l. e. 

(WiL. puts head in hand. Silence. E titer Ren., main 
entrance, coat and collar off. Wil. sits quietly in chair. 
Ren. claps him on back.) 

Ren. Hello, Ted, old scout. What are you mooning 
about? 

Wil. Nothing. Is it true that you flunked your exam ? 

Ren. Yes. Didn't you hear? {Sits on sofa.) 

Wil. I heard you got stuck. What was the trouble? 

Ren. Johnny, the old duck, went out of the room, and I 
couldn't crib. It was a case of honor among thieves. {Sim- 
ply.) I handed in a blank paper. 

Wil. {rising). I'm sorry you're stuck out. Bill, but I'm 
glad it was that way. I think that was the best exam you ever 
took. 

Ren. {confusedly). Ah ! cut it out. Wait till I tell you 
something funny. 

Enter Pea., main entrance, coat off, struggling tvith collar. 

Pea. Ah-choo. {Sneezes.) 

(Ren. and ^iL. start.) 

Ren. Gesundheit. Every time Peanut sneezes I think of a 
street sprinkler. 

Pea. {soberly). Some hot ! I feel like a pickled chestnut. 

Ren. Every time I look at you I think of a square meal. 
Got anything to eat ? 

Pea. You don't want anything to eat. You're in love. 
{To Wil.) Did you hear about Bill's proposal? 

Wil. What did he propose, a trip down-town ? 

Pea. No. The poor boob made love to my girl. He 
thought he was going to shock her, and the dame fell for it. 

Wil. What ! Geraldine Harris ? 

Pea. Yes ; she's got a crush on Dick. Just imagine a girl 
having a crush on him. 

Ren. Honest, Ted, I never thought 



A COLLEGE MAN 35 

Pea. (interriipfing). You're right, you never thought. If 
you started to think, you'd get a headache. 

Ren. Give it a rest. Peanut. {To Wil.) I told her she 
was a peach, and now 

Pea. And now you're the lemon. 

VViL. Well, that's too bad, Bill ; what are you going to do? 

Ren. Do ? To-morrow 1 beat it home. Thank goodness 
1 don't live in town. 

(Short pause. Wil. yaiuns . ) 

Wil. Well, good -night, you fellows. Roll along. Fatty. 
Pea. Well, good -night. Come on, wife. 

\_Exeunt Ren. a}idV¥.k.., main entra?ice. 

(Wil. rises ^ turns down light, walks around room aimlessly. 
Goes to piano, fondles keys, and sings softly, *' Oh, Night 
of Love.'' Stops, goes over to Stone's desk, takes picture 
of Zel., looks at it a minute, puts it back, walks slowly to 
bedroom, u. E., singing softly. Singing dies away, cur- 
tains of main entrance move. Mr. S. looks through door, 
comes in softly, goes to R. e., listens, turns on light, stands 
a moment tmdecidedly, goes to Stone's coat, hurriedly, 
searches pockets, goes to table, sees keys, nervously tries 
keys in desk, opens top drawer, searches hurriedly, finds 
roll of bills, holds money in hand. Wil. appears in k. e.) 

Wil. Well ? 

Mr. S. {starting back). My God ! 

WiL. {walking to main entrance). One move from you and 
I rouse the house. Who are you, anyhow? 

Mr. S. I— Pm a thief, I guess. Here, take the money 
{holding out bills) and let me go. 

Wil. {grimly). The place for a man like you is in the lock-up. 
That's where you belong. 

Mr. S. {beseechingly). No — no, not there. 

WiL. {suddenly). I've seen you before, I think. You were 
tlie man who wanted money from my roommate this morning. 

Mr. S. {with a touch of dignity). 1 was here then. I sim- 
ply asked for something that belonged to me. 

Wil. Where did you meet Stone? 

Mr. S. Why — at home. I come from the same place he 
does. 

WiL. And you came down here just to see him? 

Mr. S. No, sir. That is— I— I know his people. 



36 A COLLEGE MAN 

WiL. {suddenly). This thing doesn't look right to me. I'm 
going to 'phone for a cop. Your answers are too evasive. 

Mr. S. No, sir. No, not that. Let me go. 1 won't ever 
botlier you again. I ain't so young now. You must have a 
father yourself. 

WiL. Do you know that there are girls in the other part of 
this house, and that if they saw you they'd be frightened lo 
death? A man who steals money ought to be punished. I'm 
going to 'phone. {Takes receiver fi-om hook. Mr. S. rushes 
suddenly toward the door. \^\\.. jumps from 'pho?ie, bars way, 
seizes Mw. 'Si. by the wrist.) None of that. You get over there 
in the corner. 

{Forces Mr. S. info chair , backs toward telephone, takes re- 
ceiver from hook.) 

Mr. S. {desperately). Don't. God, boy, wait a moment. 

WiL. {putting back receiver ; shortly). We'll decide this 
thing here and now. It's Stone's money. {Points to L. e.) 
We'll let him decide. 

Mr. S. {proudly). No, not him. 

WiL. Stand up. (Mr. S. rises.) Open that door. 

{Points to \.. E.) 

Mr. S. {raising right hand, drops it suddenly, faces Wil.). 
No, I can't. {Appealingly.) Boy, you d9n't know what you're 
doing. 

Wil. I'll give you thirty seconds to open that door. If you 
don't open it by then, I'll phone to the police. 

Mr. S. I can't do it ; I won't. 

{Silence. Wil. takes out watch ; Mr. S. stands at door, 
hands by his side.) 

Wil. Fifteen seconds — twenty-five (Mr. S. turns 

aivay, passes hand over brow.) The time is up. I'm going 
to 'phone the police station. {Walks to' pho?ie. Puts hand on 
receiver. Turns to Mr. S.) Are you going to waken Stone in 
there ? 

Mr. S. {sinking into chair). My God, boy. I can't do it. 
He's my son. 

Wil. {droppinghand from receiver). What! Your son ? 

Mr. S. {bitterly). Yes. That boy in there {motioning to 
l. e.) is my son. 



A COLLEGE MAN 



37 



WiL. And you ? You'd steal from him ? 

Mr. S. No — er — er — you don't understand. Here's the 
money (Jiolding out roll of bills) ; let me go. 

WiL. (cynically). I don't believe you. Your story is too 
impossible. Mr. Stone is a rich man. Almost a millionaire. 

Mu. S. He ain't. He's poor. 

WiL. {inotioning Mr. S. ijito a seat). Sit down. We'd 
better fix this right now. (Mk. S. sits in chair. Wil. walks 
to table, leans against it.) Vou say you are Mr. Stone? 

Mr. S. Yes. 

VVii.. Then what are you doing here stealing money from 
your son ? 

Mr. S. I'm not stealing it. it's mine. 

Wil. There's something queer about this. 

Mr. S. {rising suddenly, talks directly to Wil.). I've got a 
son in there who is a coward, and a liar. The Stones ain't 
rich; never were rich {voice rising), and for ten years the 
mother and me have sacrificed ourselves that he might get this 
education. We've worn poor clothes, and she has stinted and 
scraped and scrubbed just for that boy in there. We saved 
some, but the money I just sent down to Budd is needed up 
home. If we don't get that four hundred dollars, the place 
will be sold. This morning I asked my boy for the money and 
he refused it. That's why I'm here. The money is mine, 
mine, and I have a right to take it. 

Wil. {wonderingly). He wouldn't give the money back to 



you 



Mr. S. No. I asked him for the sake of his mother, and 
he refused. He said he loves a girl, and she wouldn't have 
nothing to do with him unless he is rich. {Bitterly.) What 
kind of girls do you have down here, anyway? 

WiL. So that's what Budd said ? He did it for the girl ? 

Mr, S. Yes, sir, for her. He went back on his folks be- 
cause he was afraid to have her know how poor he is. 

Wil. (slowly). So Budd'spoor? 

{Fingers book aimlessly.) 

Mr. S. {pleadingly). Let me go. 

Wil. Wait a moment. Listen, Mr. Stone, I believe you. 
Does Budd know how much you need the money? 

Mr. S. Yes, he knows. But it's the girl. She's turned 
him from us. 

Wil. Don't put the blame on her. She's as good and 



38 A COLLEGE MAN 

square as any one who ever lived. If he'd asked her she'd tell 
him to give Back the money and go home. I know (softly) be- 
cause 1 love her. 

Mr. S. What! {Short pause.) And the girl ? 

WiL. She's in love with him. She told me so. 

Mk. S. (suspiciously). Kwd. now, if you let them all know 
that I'm a thief, she'll see what a coward he is, and she'll throw 
him over for you. 

Wit... No. You're not a thief. This matter of money can 
be fixed up all right. I can lend it to you myself if it comes to 
a pinch. But as for the girl, she loves your son, and she must 
nevei know what a coward he's been. 

Mr. S. What! You'd protect him and give up your own 
chance ? Why ? 

WiL. {earnestly). Yes, Mr. Stone, and I'll tell you why. 
When I came down here four years ago, I didn't know what 
college meant. I thought one studied and had a good time, 
and then forgot. But studies are only one factor to most of us. 
At first we don't think much of college spirit, but along in the 
Junior year we begin to glimpse the real meaning of a college; 
we learn to love its traditions, and we begin to feel that what 
the college wants more than anything is to teach her students 
to be men. And the fellow who falls down and doesn't do the 
right thing isn't living up to the spirit of the college. That's 
the big thing I've learned down here, That's why I'm going 
to stand by you, and give Budd in there a chance to be a real 
man. 

Mr. S. And Budd? Does he feel that, too? 

WiL. He doesn't realize what he's doing. But he's been 
here for three years, and 1 think in the end he'll com.e out 
right. (Goes to table, takes vioneyl) You'd belter go now. 
I'll keep this money ; Budd must fight the thing out by him- 
self. Don't worry about your home. 1'ry to see Budd to- 
morrow, and if he still refuses come to me, and I'll arrange a 
loan. But remember, this affair is between you and me. 
Good-night, sir. (Offers hand.) 

Mr. S. (taking hand; slowly). And you and him are 
rivals I 

WiL. No, not rivals — college men and friends. 



CURTAIN 



ACT IV 

SCENE. — The sanie. Time — morning. 

( Curtain discovers stage empty. Enter Ren. , main entrance^ 
carryifig suit-case. Goes to l. e. and leaves bag,) 

Ren. {stretching). Oh, hum ! {Looks around room^ivalks 
over to Zel.'s picture. Takes it up a7id looks at it.') Some 
girl ! 

{Places picture back. Walks to Victrola, r. c. Takes out 
one-step record. Starts Victrola. Picks up drian-sticks. 
Drums on arm of chair.) 

Enter STONE/rom L. E. 

Stone. Hello, Bill. Cut it out. You'll wake up the 
house. 

Ren. {continui7ig drumming, sings). Ta, la la, tra, la la. 

Stone {walking to Victrola, shuts off record). Anybody 
up yet? 

Ren, Yes, I am. 

Stone. Any one else? 

Ren. {with exaggerated siveetness). Your lady friend has 
not appeared as yet. Neither has mine. {Sits on table.) 

Stone. Yours? 

Ren. Yes, mine. Geraldine and I have had an affair of 
our own. 

Stone. What ! You and Geraldine? 

Ren. Yes, me and Geraldine. Last night I told her she 
was a peach, and she thought I meant it. 

Stone. Well, I'll be darned. What are you going to do? 

Ren. I'm going home. There's my bag. 

Stone. Going home already ? Are you really stuck ? 

Ren. I'm worse than a postage stamp that's just been licked. 

Stone. Didn't the crib work ? 

Ren. {shortly). No. {To l. c.) 

Stone. What was the matter ? 

Ren. {impatiently). Oh, nothing. I just didn't use it, 
that's all, 

39 



40 A COLLEGE MAN 

Stone. I knew old Johnny would keep his eyes open. 
What did he do, sit right beside you ? 

Ren. He went out of the room. 

Stone {wonderingly). He did ? And you got stuck rather 
than crib ? 

Ren. Yes ! Any decent fellow would have dene the same 
thing. {^PiiHse.) 

Stone. I'm sorry you're going home, Bill. We'll miss you 
lots. 

Ren. I'll miss the bunch, too. It's going to be hard to 
leave the old college. {Sits on sofa.) 

Stone. Yes, 1 imagine it would be mighty hard. {Pause.) 
Ted up yet? {Down r., then up c.) 

Ren. Yes, down-stairs. 

Stone. Guess I'll go down. Got a cigarette? 

Ren, No, but I'vegot aFatima. {Offers package. Stone 
takes one and lights it.) How about that affair of yours, Budd ? 

Stone {looking up). You mean the money ? It's still un- 
settled. 

Ren. Have you heard from your Dad ? 

S'J'ONE {after a brief pause). No. 

Ren. I've been thinking it over since yesterday, Budd. 
Have you decided what to do yet ? 

Stone. No ! Well — I don't know whether I have or not. 

Ren. {slowly). Don't be angry, Budd, but it seems to me 
that there's only one thing to do. You ought to send back the 
money. 

Stone {tiirectly). Do you always do what you ought? 

Ren Not always — but in a pinch, yes. 

Stone. I suppose you mean last night. But it was dif- 
ferent with you. It just meant leaving college. With me it 
means — {hands outstretched) everything. 

Ren. I don't think it does. Even if the girl should turn 
you down, you'd get over it. 

Stone. You don't know, Bill. Wliy, I'd do anything for 
her. 

Ren. You mean almost anything. 

Stone {impatiently). Oh, you can't understand. {To n.) 
I'm wrong, 1 know, but I'm going to stick it out down here. 
There must be some way of raising money. 

Ren. Oh, well, do what you like, Budd. {Bell rings.) 
There's the bell. It's a wonder some of the fellows wouldn't 
bring their keys along. 



A COLLEGE MAN 4.I 

Stone. Til see who it is. (Star Is up c.) 
Ren. Don't bother ; Ted's down-stairs. 

Enter WiL. and Prof., mam entrance. 

WiL. Professor Miller to see you, Bill. 

Ren. {fising). Good-morning, sir. 

Prof. Good-morning, Mr. Rendall. (JVods to Stone. 

Exeunt Stone and Wil., main entrance.^ I happened to be 

passing, so I thought I would speak to you about your exami- 
nation. 

Ren. Thank you, sir. Of course I'm stuck? 

{Both down l.) 

Prof. Yes. Couldn't you answer any of the questions? 

Ren. I didn't try. 

Prof. So I perceived. As yet I do not understand your 
action. Did you consider the examination a fair one? 

Ren. Yes. The questions were ftiir enough. {Frankly.) I 
just couldn't answer them, that was all. 

Prof. I thought that possibly you had some definite reason 
for submitting a blank paper. Was I correct ? 

Ren. Yes, sir. 

Prof. And does the fault lie with me ? 

Ren. Well, Professor, if you had done what I expected you 
to do, everything would have been all right. But you didn't. 

Prof. I wish, Mr. Rendall, that you would speak more 
plainly. I shall make whatever amends possible. 

Ren. The only one to blame is myself. Pm too darned 
conscientious. {Quickly.) I beg your pardon, sir. 

Prof. No man who obeys his conscience can go far wrong. 
{Rises.) However, I exceedingly regret that you must leave 
college. 

Ren. I have exacdy the *same sentiments. But before you 
go. Dr. Miller, I would like to say something. {Short pause.) 
Yesterday 1 told you that I didn't think all professors square, 
that sometimes they stick a fellow on general principles. I 
take that back. 

Prof. Thank you, Mr. Rendall. I am sure, at least, that 
you can consider me your best friend and well-wisher. 

Ren. I do, sir. You're a good, square man. If you 
weren't, Pd be in college now. 

Prof, {taking step nearer Ren.). Would you mind ex- 
plaining, Mr. Rendall? 



42 A COLLEGE MAN 

Ren. I don't suppose it would make any difference now if 
you do know. Sit down, sir. (J\fotio7is to chair. PROr'. sits 
L. of table. Ren. on sofa.) Before the exam last night I had 
a crib made out. (^Eiithusiasiically .) It was a peach of a 
crib — Necco Sweets. (Seriously.) 1 was going to crib my 
way through the exam ; I could have done it easily, but you 
went out of the room and placed me on my honor, so I flunked 
out. 

Prof, (rising). Mr. Rendall, I congratulate you. 

Ren. (abashed). Oh ! It doesn't call for congratulations, 
sir. I told you yesterday that if a Prof, is square, the students 
will do the right thing. You said something then about the 
spirit of the college. It may have been that, or it may have 
been my conscience, but anyhow, I didn't crib, and I'm stuck 
out. 

Prof, (looking at watch). Mr. Rendall, it is now ten 
o'clock. Final marks must be submitted in two hours. If you 
wish to come to my room and take the examination again, I 
shall give you another chance. Last night's list we may simply 
regard as no examination. 

Ren. 1 thank you, sir, but it wouldn't be the square thing 
to do. You gave me a fair chance and I fell down. (Pause.) 
But it's pretty decent of you to make the offer, and I appreciate 
it, sir. 

Prof. You have my sincere admiration and respect, Mr. 
Rendall. We want men like you in college. It is to be re- 
gretted that you will not graduate. 

Ren. That's just what my father'll say. I'm going home 
this morning. 

Prof. And will you tell your parents the circumstances 
connected with this examination ? 

Ren. No, sir. 

Prof. I shall make it a point to inform your father that, 
although in a i^ense you failed, in reality you passed the final 
test — with honor. 

(Sound outside door, main entrance. Pea. si?iging, out of 
tune, *' The sun shines bright in my old Ke^itucky home.'' 
He enters, main etitrance.) 

Pea. (starting back). Oh ! 

Prof. Good-morning, Mr. Jones. (To Ren.) Well, I 
must be going, Mr. Rendall I wish you the best of success. 



A COLLEGE MAN 



43 



{^Offers hand.') 

Ren. Thank you, sir. 

{Shakes Prof.'s hand. Pea. stands aside. Exit Prof., 
main entrance. Pea. looks out of door ^ main entrance.) 

Pea. Johnny's been bawHng you out? 

Ren. No. He said he was sorry I was going home. 

Pea. Did you tell him why you flunked ? 

Ren. Yes. 

Pea. VV-hat did he say ? 

Ren. He offered to give me another exam. 

Pea. He did ? Well, the old duck. When are you going 
to take it ? 

Ren. I'm not going to take it. 

Pea. What ! 

Ren. Tliere ain't goin' to be no reexam. I'm going liome. 

Pea. Oh, say, Bill, take the blamed thing. I'll have a 
rotten time if you're not around. 

Ren. No, it'll be a good thing -for you, Peanut. {Half 
soberly.) Take a bit of advice from an old alumnus, and stick 
in college. It pays. 

Pea. Well, why don't you take the exam and stick your- 
self then ? 

Ren. I couldn't stick myself. It would be up to Johnny 
to do that, but I'm not going to take the darned exam, because 
it wouldn't be square. 

Pea. And you're going home? 

Ren. Yes ! And just wait until I tell my Dad. {To r.) 
, Pea. Did you read that poem in the paper last week ? 
{Up c. Assumes dramatic attitude.) " Stick, dog-gone the 
luck, I thought I knew the truck." /wrote that. {Taps chest.) 

Ren. I wouldn't brag about it. {Over to sofa.) 

Pea. And know what I did yesterday afternoon ? I .wrote 
a poem about Geraldine. 

Ren. It must have been some poem. 

Pea. It was; but it won't do me any good now. I'm 
going to turn it over to you. 

Ren. I don't want the blamed thing. 

Pea. Sure you do; you can read it to her. {To sofa. 
Asstwies voice and attitude of Ger.) Do you like me lots, 
Willie ? 

Ren. {jumping up). Cut it out. 



44 A COLLEGE MAN 

Pea. Wait a minute. Wait till you hear the poem. I'll 
read it. 

Ren. Don't you dare. 

Pea. {taking rumpled paper from pockety reads). 

, ** Little girl of the coal black eyes, 
Rosy lips and tender sighs." 

Ren. Tender size. Yes, she is pretty small. 
Pea. Sighs, you boob, sighs ! {Sighs deeply.) Like that. 
Ren. For the love of Mike, Peanut, tie a can to it. 
Pea. {with dignity). Just a minute, just a minute. I wrote 
ten new lines this morning. {Reads.) William speaks : 

*' Dear, though 1 know it must sound silly, 
1 like you lots when you call me Willie." 

Ren. Git ! {Takes pilloza, throws it at Pea. Pea. re- 
treats to door, main entrance Sticks head through curtains.) 
Here's Geraldine, William. {Steps aside.) 

Enter Ger., main entrance. 

Ger. {frowning atVEK., walks tow.). Good-morning, Bill. 

{Offers hand.) 

Ren. Good-morning. {To v^.) 

Pea. {advancing into room). I see you got up before break 
fast. 

Ger. {shortly). Yes. {To Ren.) Did you sleep well, 
Bill? 

Ren. You bet your life I did. Didn't dream a single 
thing. 

Ger. Oh ! I thought perhaps you'd dreamed 

Pea. Didn't you dream about Geraldine? 

Ren. {scowling). No! not last night. 

Pea. Neither did L 

Ger. {to Pea.). Would you mind getting me a drink, Mr. 
Jones ? 

Ren. Get me one, too. Peanut. (Pea. starts R., hastily.) 
And hurry back. [Exit Pea., main ejitra?ice. 

Ger. What are we going to do all day, Bill ? {Doivn r.) 

Ren. Pm going to ride in a train most of the time. A rail- 
road train, you know, one of those things that runs along on 
tracks. The tracks 



A COLLEGE MAN 45 

(Ger. at c, Ren. to r.) 

Ger. (ifiterruptifig). Oh, Bill, you're not going away 
to-day ? 

Ren. Yes, this morning, I'm stuck out of college. 

Ger. Yes, but you don't have to go so soon ; and just — 
after last night, too. 

Ren. Yes, that's the reason I'm going — after last night. 
(Ger. .draws away, hurt.) Oh, I mean the exam. I took 
that last night, you know. 

Ger. Oh, Bill, I thought for a moment you meant me. But 
can't you stay here for a few days? 

Ren. Nope ! My father is just dying to hear about that 
exam. He couldn't stand the suspense — neither could I. 

Ger. But surely I can see you soon ? Up at your house, 
maybe? 

Ren. I don't know. It's a long way to Tipperary. 

Enter Pea., with two glasses of water, mai7i entrance. 

Pea. Here's some HgO, fresh from the old reservoir. 

Ger. {ivith motion of exasperatio7i). Oh! 

Pea. {wearily handing Gek. water ; bows deeply). Accept 
this with my deepest thanks. {^Hands Ren. glass.) 

Ren. {holding glass). Here's to better days. {Drinks. 
Hands Pea. glass.) Gee, that was good stuff. I knew it was 
water as soon as I tasted it. 

Enter Mrs. B. and Zkl., main entrance. Go down L. 

Mrs. B. Good=morning, Geraldine. Have you eaten yet? 

Ger. No, Mrs. Brownley. Is breakfast ready ? 

Mrs. B. They are serving it now. 

Pea. Me for down-stairs. {Goes toward main entrance.) 

Ger. Are you coming. Bill ? 

Ren. Yes ! This is my last meal in the old house. 

{Steps aside for Ger. ^.vv/^;;/ Ren., Ger., «//<'/ Mrs. B., 
main entrance. ) 

Zel. {lingering). Have you seen Budd, Mr. Jones? 

Pea. {abashed). I — I think he's down -stairs. 

Zel. Is Ted around ? 

Pea. Oh, yes I He's the big boss. He's probably down- 
stairs, too, seeing that the gang gets enough to eat. (Zel. sits 
on piano stool.) Can't you play the pi-an-o, Miss Saunders ? 



46 A COLLEGE MAN 

Zel. (smiling'). No. Can you? 

Pea. Nope ! I can't play anything but the bugle. W-want 
to hear that ? 

Zel. (smili?ig'). Why, certainly. 
Pea. I'll run down and get it. 

{Exit, main entrance. Zel. walks arou7id room. Plays 
idly with books on table.') 

Enter Stone, maiii entrance. 

Stone. Good-morning, Zelda. 
Zel. Good-morning, Budd. 
Stone. Have you had any breakfast yet ? 
Zel. No ! But I'd like some. 

Stone. Do you mind waiting just a minute — herewith me? 
Zel. No! Of course not. (Stone touches Z^i^.'s hand 
oiytable.) Don't be foolish, Budd. Play ''On the banks." 

(Stone goes to piano.) 

Stone {sitting on stool). I'd much rather talk, but listen. 
{Flays softly.) " Drink to me only with thine eyes." 

{Looks at Zel.) 

Efiter Pea., ?nain efitrance, with cornet. 

Pea. {standing ift doorway, u7i7ioticed). H'm. {No one 
notices hitn. He takes cornet, plays loudly, '^ I can't get him 
up.'" Zel. and Stone start.) That's taps. It means break- 
fast is ready. 

Zel. Oh, Mr. Jones, I forgot all about you. 

Pea. Yep! Most everybody forgets about me. But you'd 
better hurry up or there won't be anything left to eat. 

Zel. All right. Come on, Budd. 

\^Exeu7it Zel. a7id Stone. 

Pea. {going to pia7io, plays on cor 7iet first li7ies of ^' Drink 
to 77ie 072 ly with thine eyes "/ puts cor 7iet doiV7i). Gee! I'd 
like to write a poem about her. 

{Exit, 7nain e7itrance. Stage is vaca7it. Fro7n dow 71- stairs 
quartette si7igs ' * Old Black Joe. ' ' Sound of applause.) 

E7iter Mr. S. a7id Stone, 7nai7i e7itrance. 



A COLLEGE MAN 47 

Stone. Dad, some one down-stairs might have seen you. 
Can't you come around to-morrow? 

Mr. S. No ! To-morrow I'll be home. I'm going back 
this morning. 

Stone {eagerly). And the money? Did you get it? 

Mr. S. If I do get it, it won't be because you gave it to me. 

Stone {^puzzled). Well, what are you going to do? 

Mr. S. Do? 'rhe first thing is to ask you again. Are you 
going to give me the money or not ? 

Stone {desperately). No ! I'm not. 

Mr. S. {rising). Well, I'm going. I wanted to give you 
a chance to do the right thing. 

Stone {impulsively). Dad, I wish I could give you the 
money, but You see how it is, don't you ? 

Mr. S. {sloivly). Yes ! I see just how it is. 

Stone. I'm sorry, Dad. {Laughter sounds from down- 
stairs.) Goodness, Dad, you don't want to be found here. 

Mr. S. No, it wouldn't be right for a boy to have his 
friends meet his father. 

Stone. Oh ! It isn't that. (Ren. passes main entrance. 
Stone starts, impatiently.) You can't do any good here. Get 

the money. I don't care how you get it, but {Laughter 

soufids again.) They'll be up here soon. 

Mr. S. {angrily). All right, I'm going. I can get the 
money. 

Stone. Where ? 

Mr. S. From your roommate, Mr. Willis. 

Stone {starting back). What ! From him ? 

Mr. S. Yes, from him. 

Stone. God, you didn't tell him, did you ? 

Mr. S. Yes, I told him. 

Stone {incredulously). You told him about me? 

Mr. S. Yes. He knows just what you are. 

Stone. When did you see him ? Don't you see he mustn't 
know, of all people ? 

Mr. S. Why him? 

Stone. Oh, he's my roommate, and besides 

Mr. S. {inter rupti?ig). Well, he knows ; and what's more, 
he loves the same girl you do. And I hope he gets her. 

Stone. God ! {Gesture of despair ; turns to Mr. S.) 
When did you see him? Tell me ! I must know. I will ! 

Mr. S. I saw him last night. I came here to this room, 
and he caught me. 



4.8 A COLLEGE MAN 

Stone. What! Last night? Here? 

Mr. S. Yes. I came to get the money — and T got it. 

Stone. What ! You got the money? {Goes' over to desk, 
opens draiver.') it's gone. 

Mr. S. {taking step toward door'). Yes! I guess that's all 
now. 1 must go back. 

Stone {appealingly). No, Dad, don't, don't ! 

Mr. S. {softening, lays hand on Stone's shoulder). Boy, 
don't take it like that. I ain't got the ncioney. 

Stone. It's gone. Where is it? 

Mr. S. He, Willis, took it away from me. He says he's 
goin' to give it back to you. 

Stone {sitti?ig down, puts liead in hands). God ! 

Mr. S. And he's going to lend me enough to pay the note. 
He's a real man, he is. 

Stone. But he'll tell her, and then — it'll l^e all off. {Hope- 
lessly.) I might just as well go back now. You — you've 
spoiled everything. 

Mr. S. You're wrong about Mr. Wiris. College makes 
some boys, and breaks others. He's in the first class; you're 
in the second. 

Stone. And you think he won't tell her? 

Mr. S. I know he won't. 

Stone. If he only doesn't. {Sound in hall outside. Stone 
motions to l, e.) Some one's coming. Quick, Dad ! For 
God's sake, get in there ! 

Mr. S. {tising). So you're still ashamed of me ? 

Stone. Oh, quick ! 

(Mr. S. stands for a moment, fists clenched. Bo7VS head. 
Exits, L. E. Stone ^6'^.f to r. c.) 

Enter Pf.a. and Ren. 

Pea. Oh, for the love of Mike, Bill, why don't you stick 
around a while? 

Ren. Stick around nothing. Geraldine might propose 
to me. 

Pea. I tell you the only thing to do is to stick around. 
She'll get tired of you soon. Then Til start. 

{Fats hifns elf on chest.) 

Ren. Well, you can start any time you want to. I'm go- 
ing home. 



A COLLEGE MAN 49 

Pea. oil, say, Bill. {Notices Stone sianditig ?iear r. e.) 
What' re you sore at, Budd ? 

Stone. Nothing. 

Pea. You remind me of an undertaker. Well, it ain't my 
funeral, as the old lady said when she kissed the cow. (Sound 
outside. ) Here comes the gang. 

Enter Mrs. B., Zel., Ger. and Wil. 

Mrs. B. Mr. Willis has suggested that we go to the tennis 
courts and watch the Stevens match. 

Pea. Sure, that will be fine. 

Ren. I can't go. Pve got to catch a train in (taking out 
watcJi) thirty minutes. 

Pea. Or in vulgar parlance, a half hour. 

Ger. {going to Ren.). W^on't you please stay, Bill? 

Ren. I'm sorry, but I have to go home. The folks will be 
expecting me. 

Pea. Never mind, Geraldine — er — Miss Harris, Pll be here 
to take you around. 

Mrs. B. Must you go, Mr. Rendall ? 

Ren. Yes. You see, I'm stuck out of college, and the 
sooner 1 get away and to work the better. 

(Goes from one to another y shaking hands.') 

Mrs. B. (to Wil.). Shall we go to the tennis match? 

Wil. Yes, the rest of us might as well go. (To Ren.) 
So-long, Bill. 

Ren. (shaking hands with Wil.). So-long, Ted. Good 
luck to you. (To Pea.) Peanut, step in that room and get my 
suit-case. 1 put it there a little while ago. (Motions to l. e.) 

Stone. I'll get it, Bill. (Starts forward.) 

Ren. No, let the Freshman do it. Go in. Peanut. (Stone 
steps back. Exit Pea., l. e.) Well, I'll say good-bye. 

(Shakes hands with Ger.) 

Pea. (excitedly). Ted, there's a man in there. 

Mrs. B. a man ? 

Pea. Yes, an old fellow. Do you know who it is, Budd? 

Stone. Why — er — no. 

Ren. Bring him out here. (Goes to l. e.) Come here, 
you. (Enter Mr. S., l. e.) It's the same man who was here 
yesterday to see yob, Budd. 



50 A COLLEGE MAN 

Mrs. B. Don't you think we had better turn him over to 
the police? 

Ren. Yes. I guess we'd better. (71? Stone.) Have you 
seen him before, Budd ? 

Stone. Yes, he comes from the same place I do. 

Ren. {to Mr. S.). Well, tell us who you are. What are 
you doing here, anyway ? 

Mr. S. I — I know Mr. Stone. I came down here because 
I knew he had some money, and 1 wanted it. 

Ren. Oh, you're a thief, then. 

Mr. S. Yes. 

Ren. (Jurning to Wil.). What shall we do with him, Ted? 

WiL. (slowly). I think it's up to Budd. It was his money 
the man was after. Let him say. 

Zel. Oh ! let him go. He's poor, Budd. 

(Stone flinches.) 

Stone (^looking at Mr. S.). It wouldn't do any good to 
arrest him. Let him go, Ted. 

WiL. {kindly). You'd better go back home, sir. 

Mr. S. {starting to say so7nethitig, stops; takes a step 
toward the door ; turns to Stone). I thank you. 

{Starts toward main entrance.) 

Stone (clinchi?ig fists, makes sudden resolution ; firmly). 
This man isn't a tramp. He's my father. 

Ren. What ! 

Stone. Yes. {Turns to others.) You people thought I 
was rich. I've always spent lots of money, and I've bought 
good clothes and said that my father was wealthy. But he 
isn't. We're poor — you know all that now. And I've been a 
cad and a coward, and when my Dad came here for some 
money, I wouldn't give it to him. I sent him in that room 
when you came in. But now {voice breaks) I can't see him go 
away hke this. He's my Dad, and I'm going to stand by him. 

{Goes to father'' s side. Both up c. Pause.) 

Wil. Won't you sit down, Mr. Stone? 

Mr. S. No, thank you. I'm goin' home now. 

Stone. We're both going home. It's the only thing to do. 
{Turns to Zel.) I suppose you'll never want to see or hear 
from me again. I've been deceiving you all along, and I'm 



A COLLEGE MAN cj 

sorry— but I love you. So I guess tliis is the last time we'll see 
each other. {Pause.) Good-bye. 

Zel. It isn't good-bye, Budd. I'm glad you're going 
home, because it's the right thing to do, but I want you to 
come back— for me. {Gives Stone hafid.) Last night I said 
you were drifting, but you're stopped now, and turned against 
the tide. 1 love you, Budd. 



CURTAIN 



Novelties 



THE VILLAGE POST-OFFICE 

An Entertainment in One Scene 
By Jessie A. Kelley 
Twenty-two males and twenty females are called for, but one person 
may take several parts and some characters may be omitted. The stage 
is arranged as a country store and post-ofifice in one. Costumes are rural 
and funny. Plays a full evening. A side-splitting novelty, full of " good 
lines " and comical incident and character. One continuous laugh from 
beginning to end. Strongly recommended for church entertainments or 
general use ; very wholesome and clean. 

Friccy 2^ cents 

MISS PRIM'S KINDERGARTEN 

An Entertainment in One Scene 

By Jessie A. Kelley 

Ten males, eleven females. No scenery or curtain needed ; costumes 

introduce grown people dressed as children. Plays an hour and a half. 

A modern, up-to-date version of the popular " District School," full of 

Jaughs and a sure hit with the audience. All the parts very easy except 

the Teacher's, and as it is possible for her to use a book, the entertainment 

can be got up with exceptional ease and quickness. Can be recommended. 

Price, 25 cents 

THE VISIT OF OBADIAH 

A Farce in Two Acts 
By Eunice Fuller and Margaret C. Lyon 
Thirteen females. Costumes modern ; scene, an easy interior, the same 
for both acts. Plays an hour. A clever and original play, suited for 
school or college performance. Full of incident and offers a great variety 
of character and great opportunity for pretty dressing. Irish and negro 
comedy parts. Price^ 25 cents 

A PAN OF FUDGE 

A Comedy in One Act 

By Maude B. Stjnes 
Six females. Costumes, modern ; scene, an easy interior. Plays twenty- 
five minutes. A bright little boarding-school sketch, at once amusing and 
sympathetic ; tone high and quality good. Confidently recommended to 
young ladies as an effective piece easy to get up. 
Price, 15 cents 
Sent, post-paid, on receipt of price, by 

BAKER, 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Mass« 



New College Plays 



THE COLLEGE BALL 

A Comedy in Four Acts 
By Harry O. Osgood 
Seven males, five females. Costumes modern ; scenery, three interiors„ 
Plays two hours and a half. Written expressly for school and college per- 
formance, and strongly recommended for this purpose. Easy to stage, all 
the parts good, plot of strong and sympathetic interest, lots of good and 
characteristic incident — in short, just what is asked for for this purpose„ 
A sure success. Price, 2^ cents 

CHARACTERS 

Tom Bradford ") « . Kitty Peters, his daughter, 

Dick Adams j * Frances Wing. 

Henry Carter \ Eleanor Bradford, Tom^s aunt, 

Phil Patten [- Juniors. Sally Prentiss. 

George Ropes j A Maid. 

Professor Peters. A Waiter. 

TWO STRIKES 
A Baseball Comedy in Two Acts 

By Thacher Howland Guild 
Six males, one female. Costumes modern; scenery, two interiors. Plays 
an hour and a quarter. Originally produced by The Mask and Bauble 
Society of The University of Illinois, and highly recommended for similar 
uses. Very easy to produce, all the parts of nearly equal opportunity, 
dramatic interest unusually strong ; an unusually well written piece with 
excellent character drawing. Can be relied upon to please. Royalty of 
j^5.oo for each performance payable to the author. 
Price, 2^ cents 

CHARACTERS 
Dean Thomas, Dean of under- Phil Hodge, a senior. 

graduates. Cap. Fosdick, oJ the team. 

Artie, his student office-boy. Eben Spaulding, Lan s uncle. 
Lan Spaulding, of the baseball Helen Hodge, PhiF s sister, 

team. 

AN EQUAL CHANCE 

A Sketch in One Act 

Two male characters. Scenery unimportant ; modern costumes. Plays 
twenty minutes. A bright little rapid fire piece for two light comedy 
men. Light but keenly and continuously amusing. Just the thing to have 
ready for extemporaneous performance, since it requires neither scenery 
nor properties, and can be done in any costume. 
Price, IS cents. 



New Plays 



COUNTRY FOLKS 

A Comedy-Drama in Three Acts 

By Anthony E. Wills 

Author of "Our Wives, ^^ "A Regiment of Two,^* 

" Liberty Corners,^'' etc. 

Six males, five females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, one interior. 

Plays two and a quarter hours. An effective and up-to-date play of 

American country life well suited for amateur performance. All the parts 

good and fairly even in point of opportunity ; the ladies' parts especially 

so. Easy \q stage, and well suited for school performance. Well recom- 

vntfriaed. Price, 25 cents 

CHARACTERS 
JosiAH Dean, an old farmer. 
Martha Dean, his wife. 
Nathaniel Dean, "I ., . j -jj 
Polly Dean. \ their children. 

Lorna Lane, a seamstress. 
OziAS Schuyler, the postmaster. 
Prudence Schuyler, his daughter, 
Peter Patch, the chore boy. 
Horatio Finch, a country lawyer, 
Alvina Berry, a jieighbor. 
Jake Diemer, the village barber, 

SYNOPSIS 
Act I. — Home of Josiah Dean. Summer. 
Act II. — The same. One year later. 
Act III. — The same. A month later. 

THE ROSE AND THE RING 

Adapted from Thackeray* s Christmas Pantomime 

By J. B. Gree?tough 

Sixteen males, five females. Costumes, fantastic ; scenery, one interior, 

two exteriors, all unimportant. Plays an hour and three-quarters. A 

wonderfully ingenious and effective stage version of this charming classic, 

ideally suited for school performance. Strongly recommended. 

Price, 2§ cents 

COHEN'S DIVORCE 

A Sketch in One Act 

By G. M. Rose7ier 

For two male characters, Hebrew and straight. Costumes, eccentric ; 

any scenery will answer. Plays twenty minutes. Good character talk 

and very funny business; can b« made very effective. 

Price, /J cents 



New Plays 



HIS WORD OF HONOR 

A Comedy in Three Acts 

By Charles Go J 
Eleven males, five females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two interiors 
and an easy exterior. Plays two hours. An exceptionally good college 
play, high in tone and aim, and faithful in atmosphere and color. Its 
theme is taken from the serious side of college life, — the so-called " Honor 
System " in college examinations, — but its humorous traits are various and 
rich and its general tone gay and vivacious. Very strongly recommended 
for schools, particularly^ for co-educational institutions. Will suit both in- 
structors and instructed. 

Price^ 25 cenU 

CHARACTERS 
Dick Walthour, a senior. 

Harvey Grant, a se7tior, president of the Student CounciL 
Bert Flemming, Dick' s roommate, a junior. 
Arthur Carson, a Virginian, a junior 
William Henry Eraser, alias *' Kid,'' a freshman. 
Hunter, Jackson, King, Wilkins, students. 
Jeremiah Hackett, a sophomore, Fraser s roommate, 
Coffey, ^ postmati. 

Helen Flemming, Berfs sister, a junior. 
Janette Gordon, a junior. 
Moi.\.Y AiKi'tis, a freshman. 
Arethusa a. Judkins, a sophojnore, a "grind.*' 
Mrs. MacInchbald, the chamber-" maid.'' 
Professor Nicely, Professor Loomis, and others. 

WHEN WOMEN VOTE 

A Farce in Two Acts 

By Anjta P. See 

Five females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, an easy interior. Plays 

forty minutes. A good-natured and clever forecast of the time when the 

Suffragette has won her fight, telling an amusing little story to carry ilh 

satire. Good for women's clubs ; easy and bright. 

Price, 15 cents 

BUMPS 

A Farce in One Act 
By Lillie Davis 
Three females. Costumes, modern ; scene, an interior. Plays twenty 
five minutes. An amusing little hit at the fad of phrenology, suitable for 
scnool performance. Clean and bright. 

j^nce /J cents 



r 



n. m. Piner«'$ Plays 

Price, 50 jKetite Each 



Min rHANNFI Play in Four Acts. Six males, five females. 
*"**-'"^**'*'*'Ail^l.i Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. 
Plays two and a half hom-s. 

THE NOTORIOUS MRS. EBBSMITH 5r^ 'i^lT, 

males, five females. Costumes, modern; scenery, all interiors. 
Plays a full evening. 

THF PRflFIIPATF Playin Four Acts. Seven males, five 
I llLi 1 1\V/1 LilUrl 1 Lm females. Scenery, three interiors, rather 
elaborate ; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

THF QPHnni MIQTDFQQ Farce in Three Acts. Nine males, 
ini:i iJV^nUULiLTUOilVEiiJO seven females. Costumes, mod- 
ern; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

THE SECOND MRS. TANQUERAY g^Jt'-^.^Svi 

females. Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. Plays a 
full evening. 

ClirrrT I A VI^ISiriFR Comedyin Three Acts. Seven males, 
tJllCiLtl Lir\ V fill LrE, A. four females. Scene, a 8in4;le interior, 
Costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

TUF TUf TMni7PRni T Comedy in Four Acts. Ten males, 
inCt inUili/EiIVOULil nine females. Scenery, three interi- 
ors; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

THF TIMF^ Comedy in Four Acts. Six males, seven females. 
**lEi lllu£iij Scene. a single interior; costumes, modern. Plays 
a full evening. 

THF WFAITFR ^FY Comedy in Three Acts. Eight males, 
lll£i ff £i/\lvEilV iJ£iA eight females. Costumes, modern; 
scenery, two interiors. Plays a full evening. 

A WIFE WITHOUT A SMILE ^t^'^L^J^rtlAili. 

Costumes, modern ; scene, a single interior. Plays a full evening. 



Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

l^alter ||. pafeer & Companp 

No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 



LlBRftRY OF CONGRESS 




tCfje IS^iUiam wi "015 sy™""™ 



A^ ¥nn I IJTF IT Comedy in Fire Acts. Thirteen males, four 
AD lUU MA>4 II females. Costtunes, picturesque ; scenery, va- 
ried. Plays a full erening. 

I* A Mil IP Drama in Five Acts. Nine males, five females. Cos- 
vARlliflyC tumes, modern j scenery, varied. Plays a full evening. 

INIinMAff Play in Five Acts. Thirteen males, three females. 
liiUUiiiAIX Scenery varied ; costumes, Greek. Plays a full evening. 

MADY ^TIIADT Tragedy in Five Acts. Thirteen males, four f©- 
1T1AI\1 JlUAAi males, and supernumeraries. Costumes, of the 
period ; scenery, varied and elaborate. Plays a full evening. 

THB MERCHANT OF VENICE SkTel^rbS^ml^el: ^^^ 

picturesque ; scenery varied. Plays a full evening. 

DimPI IFIT ^^*y *^ ^""'^ -A.cts. Fifteen males, two females. Scen- 
l\lvllCMI^l; ery elaborate ; costumes of the period. Plays a full 
evening. 

THP filVAI^ Comedy in Five Acts. Nine males, five females. 
lllXf niTAl^iJ Scenery varied; costumes of the period. Plays a 
full evening. 

SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER SSfAS S.et^'lc..':?/:^?^^ 

ried ; costumes of the period. Plays a full evening. 

TWELFTH NiaHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL iX'/.nIS;.'; 



three females, 
full evening. 



Costumes, picturesque ; scenery, f aried. Plays a 



Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

Salter ^, 'Bafier & Company 

No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 



S. J. PARKHILL a CO., PRINTERS. BOSTON, U.S.A. 



